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Browsing Tag: working from home

Procrastination

There is a fat bluebird outside my office window. The shepherd’s hook on which he perches shakes under his weight. He’s eyeing the feeder that hangs below, recently filled to brimming with seeds. My writing space is in the front of our house. It’s a house we bought so that my husband could work from home–his office is tucked into the back, on the exact opposite side from where I sit, behind the garage and off the kitchen and laundry room. It has a door, but he can hear us moving around at meal times (and snack times, and washing-the-dishes times: so, all the time), and we can hear him pacing, his arms moving as he takes conference calls and leads presentations from his small space in this quiet suburb of a small city. I was lucky to commandeer the space in the front of the house–it’s a formal living room, closed off save for a narrow arched doorway to the front hall. I still haven’t painted it, though I’ve the color picked out. We hope to eventually knock a large hole…

Even Though ‘Starting Small’ and ‘Brain Reprogramming’ Aren’t Exactly Synonymous

If I make just one resolution this new year, I think it’s going to be something like: Make Intentional Use of Time. And also maybe Write Shorter Blog Posts. But one thing at a time. That’s it. It’s all I need: intentional use of time. I’m not talking about adhering to a super-strict schedule. In six years of parenthood I’ve learned that if there’s anything I can count on, it’s going to be that I can’t count on anything, “schedule”-wise. Someone’s bound to wake up with a nightmare the night I’ve decided to set the alarm for five. Some’s probably going to get sick and barf all over herself at the breakfast table on what’s supposed to be the busiest day of the week. Someone else might, oh, I don’t know, partially dislocate his elbow on New Year’s Day and necessitate an eight p.m. trip to the local urgent care center (looking at you, Cian). It’s just…life right now. It is what it…

Working from Home is for Oxymorons

I write from home. This is my part-time job, with flexible hours–and by flexible, I mean, some days I don’t show up at all, because oh my gosh LIFE, and kids, and everybody cries SO MUCH, over things like spiders, and Cian’s playing with SK’s car, and whyohwhy do I make them play outside and can’t they just watch TV?. The hourly pay isn’t so hot, but the emotional pay-off is worth every cent, and the potential for growth is huge. I absolutely love it, and most days just wish I could throw myself into it (but writing, like quicksand, is way too hard to get out of once you’re in the thick of it), but it’s a little sticky, you know, scheduling this part-time work around my other job. The full-time one. The one I quit teaching to do. And for some reason the hours of that job are something like 6:05 a.m. to 9:35 p.m, and if I drop the ball just an inch during that time, I’ve created an avalanche that…