My delightful friend, Jennifer, reminded me over the weekend that I hadn’t blogged in awhile. That’s not entirely true. I haven’t blogged for free in awhile, but I’ve been blogging like it’s my job since April. Because it is my job. In April, I started a contract gig as a communications consultant for a super-cool nonprofit organization. I blog, and do social media, and edit things and write things. I work from home.
Working at home has its advantages, particularly when your awesome nanny cleans and does laundry and empties the dishwasher. I don’t have to commute anywhere. I can sit around in my pajamas all day. I don’t have to take a shower. (I do take a shower. Usually.)
The big issue I find is keeping my head in the game. Being at home, it’s easy to get distracted by laundry that needs to be folded, counters that could be wiped and clumps of fur on the carpet from my mangy cat. I’m also the one who’s taking the kids to their dentist appointments, organizing the play dates, doing the grocery shopping and planning the social schedule. I’m still the stay-at-home parent, trying to do most of what I used to do. And mostly, failing.
It’s possible for me to fit in 20 hours a week. But my chock-a-block schedule makes it hard to get — and stay — in the zone.
Here, I’ve outlined today, an average day. I’m expecting sympathy, FYI:
7:15: Awakened by two children crawling on me, and an aggressively purring cat.
7:20: Realize that I still have a toothache. Also, that I way overdid my workout yesterday, and my left hip hurts like a bitch.
7:22: Hobble downstairs.
8:00: Call my dentist. Confer about toothache. Schedule root canal for Friday, when I was hoping to be working. Fix lunches, clean up kitchen. “We’re out of compost bags,” says Steve. Add to mental list.
9:15: Put on a baseball hat that says “Grumpy,” throw on clothes, brush teeth and drive Evan to camp. (Bini has been delivered to his camp by Steve.)
9:30: Stop at Walgreen’s to buy compost bags, batteries and Sharpies.
9:45: Work.
10:30: Notice that Kona is filthy and needs her nails trimmed. Call grooming place and book appointment for noon.
10:35: Work.
11:45: Leash up Kona and walk to the groomers. Feel virtuous about getting some exercise, spending quality time with dog, and doing an errand. (Win-win-win!)
12:10: Realized I am unshowered, and hungry. Turn on oven with the intention of roasting beets that have been in the crisper for a week.
12:15: Answer e-mail.
12:25: Shower and do minimum grooming.
12:55: Make sad lunch and carry it up my office.
1:00: Conference call.
1:25: Notice that my battery is at 17 percent, and that the charger for my new MacBook isn’t working.
1:33: Log off, race to Apple store.
1:45: Arrive at Apple Store. Informed by idiot Apple employee that I have to wait an hour to see a “Genius.” Reply in a way that could be characterized as hostile. Receive new charger, for free.
2:00 Kona is done being bathed. Remember, as I’m driving, that the groomer does not accept credit cards. Pull into grocery store to buy something and get cash.
2:10 Grocery store does not have flank steak, the only thing I need. Buy skirt steak instead.
2:15 Park in loading zone to pick up Kona.
2:20: Get yelled at by meter maid.
2:25 Arrive home.
2:30: Work.
3:05: Bini comes home from art camp. I take a break to say hello and make him a snack.
3:15: Work.
4:00: Realize that I left the oven on. And forgot to roast the beets.
4:15: Mangy cat vomits on carpet, because she hasn’t been brushed since April. Clean up vomit. While doing that, realize that I’ve had damp clothes in the washing machine since Monday, and they smell a bit off. Rewash clothes.
4:35: Work.
5:50: Walk downstairs to listen to last 10 minutes of Bini’s piano lesson.
5:55: Bini says: “I never see you, Mom.” Heart breaks.
6:00: Release the nanny, begin dinner/bath/bedtime routine.
8:30: Yell at Evan for requesting water for the 50th time.
8:40: Write blog, sulking.
8:45: Realize that I need to update my blog image to include Evan, who we adopted over a year ago.
9:11: Work.
Hey, thanks for listening.
the swift kick 