What’s it like to live alone from Mon to Thu, and to see your son only on the weekends?
What’s it like to wake up at 4.30am; fix a quick simple breakfast of toast, bacon, eggs and coffee;
head out the door at 5.30am for a 90-mile (read: a full hour) drive to your workplace;
organize, shuffle and deliver parcels and mails on a 8-hour shift;
speak to no one in particular except for the occasional courtesy nods and smiles to house owners watering their plants in the front garden or driving their fancy cars out of the garage;
end your workday with a change of clothes and a quick rush for your car so as to avoid the deadlock evening traffic to make an hour and a half drive back home (there’s really no escaping the evening traffic at all);
turn up the volume from the radio to drown out the melodrama of an uneventful work day and the chaos of the buzzing traffic,
blink back at the bright green, amber and red lights flashing;
reach home and unlocking the door to a quiet house save for the silent hum of the refrigerator;
fix yourself a simple dinner of salad and eggs;
work on the backyard for an hour or two;
take a hot shower and call it a day -
and to repeat this over the next four work days...
What’s it like for this single, male parent?
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