It’s looking like I won’t make it to Burlington tomorrow because my meetings’d carry me into the dark. 
We’re meant to all go in on Mondays, though many don’t. My meetings tomorrow are such that they begin at noon, when we’re supposed to be in, and they don’t really stop until five. That’s fine, a normal day of work, really. But it means that with the hour drive, I’d be getting home at 6:00, and 6:00 is bed time nowadays. 

Used to be dinner time, now that’s 4:30-5:00.

Bed time is a sacred time. Part of that is because of how delicate it is. That hour of sleepiness and approach to sleepiness balances on the edge of a knife, tears on either side. You’ve got to sneak up on it, surprise it, stalk it and pounce. 

It’s not the sort of situation I’m eager to leave Abby and Roby in alone. They need support, and maybe more importantly, they need to feel supported. Being able to work from home is, I think, the single greatest blessing of my career, and in this capital country of ours, my life. If it can be done, it ought to be done.
I feel very lucky, and I hope that Roby does too.