What's the longest you've ever worked without taking a break? Ever worked a seven-day work week? What about ten? Ever gone hog wild and worked fourteen straight days without taking a break?

Yesterday, Carey had the day off. Might not sound all that novel, but the fact is, it's the first day off Carey's had in, that's right, 34 straight days. I'm very serious. Five uninterrupted weeks of work, without so much as a single day to catch her breath (I should also point out that it would have been six straight weeks, but they gave her a single day off for moving into our condo).

Needless to say, Carey was elated to have her one day (which is heartbreaking). I told her that, if it were me, I'd probably just sleep the day away, rent movies, and lay around. After all, she's developed calluses on calluses and painfully swollen feet. Her joints hurt, she's fatigued, and she shows every evidence of being completely and totally burned out.

But, lay around all day? She wouldn't have any part in it.

So, we spent the morning at the Long Beach Art Museum and had lunch on the beach. In the afternoon, she treated herself to a pedicure and we spent the late afternoon shopping for a new stove at a very cool stove-restoration store (which featured fully restored Wedgewood porcelain-and-chrome stoves from the 1950s). Then, on to IKEA, shopping for a specific couch (which was out-of-stock) and patio furniture for our balcony (which was out-of-season) and other little odds and ends for the house. Then we grocery-shopped. We returned home and Carey immediately went to work on the kitchen (which had yet to be finished since our move last month).

It was a full day.

And, now, as I type this on Sunday morning, Carey is about to head back into the breach again. She says she may get another day off soon, but nothing's ever set in stone. It's upsetting. It really is, but at least I got to be with her yesterday.

I've told her to be frank with them about these working conditions. She says she is and she will.

I hope she means it.