Three Days

So, I have gone to Stamford for three days now, but that's not what I mean by "three days." Three days--sometimes four or five--is what I have lived through by the end of each day.
 
There's the day when I start getting everyone ready and head out myself.  Then there's the day of work, when home hardly exists. Then another day of transport to an event, and a whole new day when I arrive home and face kids and forms to sign and an apartment to put back in order.  All before I can end this day (or four or five days?) so I can have energy for tomorrow.
 
No one can really live three (or four or five) days in one, but perhaps the reason I feel, as many working outside the home moms do, that I am different people during the course of each day is that I really am.  The me who attended an event tonight was not the same me who was in Soap-ville all day. The me who was at work was not really the same me who fielded kid questions when I got home.  While, of course, these are all parts of me, they remind me just how many sides of me there are, and how many paths I can follow.  Maybe I've only worked for three days, but with the volume of stuff that has filled those days, I can safely say that that I've got at least a week under my belt. But, like parenthood, this time won't be counted in days and weeks and months. It will be counted in what I accomplish...and with at least three days every 24 hours, I'm bound to accomplish a lot!