WORKING FOR THE WHAT? It's the end of another blurred week. At one time that meant heading off to happy hour. It meant de-stressing, relaxing, watching sports and drinking beer and playing video games. Maybe it meant a nice dinner out with my girlfriend/wife, with friends. Dining out in the big city, at nicer and nicer restaurants. Goofing off. Now it means gymnastics class. Maybe a family swim. Bottles of formula rather than beer. Sneaking in some late-night TV, maybe reading a magazine. The only headaches will be from lack of sleep. And then back at it. It sounds sort of bland or dark as I type it, but it's not that bad. At times -- as when my son practically vibrates with happiness in the swimming pool, or when my wife glows holding our new baby -- it's downright triumphant and shiny. What it is, most of all, is a whole different chapter of life. I work in an office of twentysomethings. I am clearly not a twentysomething anymore, no matter how young I dress or act.