I’m going to do something a little bit different today, because I’m in need of a little bit of levity, for one thing, and because my head feels like it’s stuffed full of moldy spaghetti, for another.

(Did you like that visual? That’s why I make the big bucks, people. Stunning imagery, artisan-crafted to render you speechless. And a little bit nauseated.)

Anyway, I thought today you could help my post, because I’m all about the giving and whatnot, but today I could use a little bit of help. And also because no one doesn’t love a Mad Lib, except maybe people who are sticklers about that whole double-negative thing. (Again, with the writing mastery! Don’t hate me because I’m the second coming of Hemingway!) Read the rest of this entry »

Yesterday I could not get the phone to stop ringing. All of the standard clichés leapt to mind: The phone was ringing off the hook! (Except, of course, that it’s a handset and a base—no hook.) The phone was attached to my ear! (Actually, I usually do speaker phone with clients so that I can look at files at the same time.) And so on.

This was particularly aggravating, yesterday, because my son was home sick. He’s an easy sickie; he’s happy to lay on the couch and watch cartoons or doze. Still, it’s not the kind of day where I want to be talking to clients for hours on end, if I had my druthers. (What the heck are druthers, anyway? Apparently I didn’t have them, yesterday.) Read the rest of this entry »

I did something radical yesterday.

I took a long walk.

Oh, I know it doesn’t sound like much. But I have become so completely mired in my day-at-the-desk routine that it felt like a Great Big Major Deal to dig out my good sneakers and some workout wear. But I was caught up on work and we had an unseasonable and gorgeous day yesterday—70 degrees! Balmy!—and so I got myself together and headed out the door.

In the middle of the day. Like I owned the place! Read the rest of this entry »

Some of you know that every so often, my kids go off and spend the weekend with their dad, leaving me footloose and fancy-free. Or, at least, as footloose and fancy-free as one can be when you are both a freelancer (read: someone who works all the time) and a big fan of planning.

(And by “big fan of planning” I of course mean “anal retentive.”)

Of course, having a kid-free weekend also means that my husband and I have the opportunity to work on projects around the house or go on an outing, too. So I try not to spend the whole time working. Ideally, such a weekend affords me the chance to either catch up on work or get ahead a bit, and to have some quality time with my honey. Read the rest of this entry »

I suppose that most organized mothers are good about sticking to a schedule, regardless of whether they have another job besides catering to the small people underfoot. And if you work for someone else, adhering to a schedule becomes essential, I’d imagine, or you risk losing your job.

I am very organized about some things and less organized about others, and what I found as I began my life as a freelancer was that I am naturally given towards prioritizing and compartmentalizing my work. Whether a vestige from my corporate days or just a side effect of wanting to appear perfect to my clients, I’m quite good at conducting my life as Business Mir with near-military precision. Read the rest of this entry »

I have seen the benevolent face of God, and He is Very Good.

He leaned very close to me—I felt his heavenly glow upon my cheek, I swear it—and said, “Child, I am the truth and the light. Follow in my ways and all shall be well. I command thee to dispatch thy children to one of my houses forthwith.”

I’m not sure I even know what “forthwith” means, but when God talks, who am I to argue? I went and signed my kids up for Vacation Bible School.

For five holy and blessed mornings this week, I am free. Free. Free to sit at my desk and work on assignments free of “she’s touching me” or “he took my toy” or “when can we go swimming?” If that’s not enough to make a person give out a hearty “Hallelujah!” then I don’t know what is.

In the discombobulation that has been moving and settling and not knowing people here and having no definitive summer plan for the kids, I had completely forgotten what it’s like to just have time to myself to work. I’ve been exhausted for weeks, and I’ve turned into one of those people who’s always standing around exclaiming, “Man, I don’t know why I’m so tired.” Perhaps because I’m working in 10-minute increments during the day while the children spin in circles around me? Perhaps because I then return to my desk after they’re in bed and work another two to five hours before turning in, myself?

Yesterday I got up early and showered and fed the kids and took them to a neighborhood church and signed them in and waved and went on my merry way. Back home again, I sat down and whipped out three assignments in what seemed like record time… and I got to drink my tea before it got cold.

I’ve got religion, baby. Vacation Bible School is the way and the truth and the light. Amen.

I make deals with myself all day long. This is what happens, in lieu of having an actual boss or officemates. I am my own coworkers! Now you know why I mutter to myself while I work.

Anyway. These deals are my way of getting through the day without either becoming paralyzed by my workload or goofing off entirely. It’s part of my system, if you will.

So, for example: I’m allowed to read blogs while I eat breakfast. Due to the nature of my work, I do consider it part of my job to keep up on the blogosphere… but it’s not as though I get to bill someone for time I spend doing so. If I do it while I’m eating breakfast, that’s allowed.

Or I’ll start working on something and tell myself: After I finish this, I can check my email again. Or have a snack. Or make that (non-work-related) phone call I need to make.

You probably know how it goes. This task-to-task motivation system works… most of the time. And the truth is that I did the same sort of thing when I worked in an office.

The problem is when life gets crazy and my solution—rather than cutting back on things like, say, reading blogs—is to just keep working in the evening. By the time I get the kids into bed, I still have a pile of work to do. Once in a while, that’s not a big deal. Every single night, and it wears on a person. Especially if that person is me, because I take my sleep very seriously.

I’m trying to work, I’m trying to pack up my house, I’m trying to prepare my family to move 1,000 miles away. It’s all getting done (sort of) but I feel like work is omnipresent. The only thing keeping me from putting my head (or maybe my computer!) in the oven is the belief that in a couple of weeks I’ll be able to get back into my regular routine again.

There may be people who can work 16-18 hours each day and thrive, but I’m not one of them. Now I have to go get another cup of coffee and decide whether to work or to pack. And then maybe assign someone to call me tonight at 11 and tell me to stop whatever I’m doing and go to bed.