The random stranger smiled at me and gave me the “what’s up” nod as he walked by.

“Oh, sorry,” he said, suddenly realizing I wasn’t who he thought I was. “You look like the guy who works at the gas station.”

This was not exactly a compliment. We’ve got five gas stations here in Healdsburg, and while I’ve got nothing against gas station attendants, let’s just say that none of the dudes who work at these places are people you’d want, say, watching your kids.

That’s when it hit me: between the new schedule of Daddy Day Care and an unexpectedly manic work schedule (I’ve been up writing some nights until 3 a.m.), I’ve taken terrible care of myself all week.

The evidence is damning. Since Monday, I’ve only showered twice. I haven’t shaved all week, and look like I plan to dress as an Amish person for Halloween. Right now, I’m wearing the very same outfit I wore yesterday and the day before that.

No, readers, I’m not bragging about my own putridity here.

Instead, I’m admitting, for the record, that the whole work/life balance issue was a challenge this week—a challenge that proved so difficult, even strangers have noticed.

I suppose the most important thing is that (somehow) I managed to take care of my girls: L in the mornings and Powergirl at night. That said, my primary goal for next week is to improve personal hygiene, and avoid comparisons to gas station attendants at all costs.