Working with Your Spouse -- Choose Your Path Carefully, My Friend

You have a great job. A fabulous kid. A house. A husband. And most importantly, a life outside of the "Family Business" (Note: names have been changed to protect the identity of the individuals). Now, as I sit here, nearly frozen to my chair wondering if I will end up like one of those Mount Everest mountaineers, perfectly preserved and left to remain on the mountain for all of eternity with the occasional climber haplessly stumbling upon me left to ponder, "I wonder what happened to her?", I am forced to question my own sanity. Why, why did I choose this path in life?



The whole premise of it seemed like a win-win situation. With one child in day care and another on the way, I'd be able to spend more time with the kids. Be more flexible in my schedule when one got sick and not have to scramble for a last minute babysitter. I'd get to spend more time with my husband. It would be great. It would be paradise.



Now that I think it about it, in reality this whole thing is paradise lost.



People turn to me all the time, "Gee," they really say 'gee'. "You are married to the nicest guy in the world." And truth be told, he really is. There is no one else I could be imagine myself married. But should I or any one for that matter spend 24 hours a day with their spouse? I digress.



We'll start with The Warehouse. It is big, scary, freezing in the winter, malaria hot in the summer and only reaches a livable temperature for about a day and half every year. As I type this, I am wearing about sixty layers, a hat, parka and thinking of learning about seal or whale hunting from an Eskimo because I know that I read somewhere that blubber in some way, helps keep you from freezing to death.



This is not nearly the half of it. The office is set in the furthermost, light less corner of this cavernous expanse. With no windows, we are force to rely on the migraine, depression-inducing light thrown from fluorescent bulbs. You don't want to try on clothes in a dressing room with these lights. Why would you want to sit all day in it?



My next thought is bringing in heat lamps. Right now, I envy those reptiles basking on a hunk of dried wood in a tiny aquarium. Please, fence me in under a heat lamp!



We have a water cooler. It has spouts for both hot and cold water. Close to hypothermia several months ago, I went to make hot chocolate. No hot water. When asked why, the husband/dictator (which is what your spouse will turn into when you become his "underling"), I was met with the reply that it would drive up the electric bill.



Don't we have an oil burner? Why yes, we do. Doesn't it work? Well, it sounds like it works. For all the catastrophic, "it is going to blow" noises it makes, I don't think I've ever felt a degree warmer because of it.



I have to go outside and lay in a patch of sun to get some warmth back into my extremities. I will be back...