Short answer? I wasn't. And I didn't. And as it happens, that was the correct answer.
Instead, I spent my days on Jack's schedule. And come evening, I made easy dinners of middling nutritional value and enjoyed a glass or two of wine in front of the television (I can finally work it! Necessity breeds logic) and/or a good book. Jack and I even got my guitar out and tuned it one afternoon. Without my partner in crime, 930p.m. bedtimes became the norm, giving me the energy to enjoy every moment of the day with my son come 5 or 6a.m. (note: waking up crazy early is MUCH easier when you don't have to witness your partner slumbering away... but I will try to hang on to the joy of those early mornings on his return anyway).
As a very pleasant aside, despite the bathroom being borderline filthy, there are clean clothes for everyone and -- maybe due to my deep pleasure in being with the kid (and the depressive cost-benefit analysis of going back to shift work minus daycare costs) I've finally come up with an idea for what I want to be when I grow up.
Hooray for letting things slide. And the rest sliding into place.