Working from home has its challenges, sometimes more so than others. I’m in a “more so” period.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Sunday is no day of rest for me, even though I could use some after attending a rollicking Halloween bash at our friends the Grays last night. I’m trying to catch up on a freelance project, and I make good progress until several of Liv’s classmates show up to finish producing a movie for school. They’re shooting their version of The Hunger Games, a book series that is apparently all the rage.
Though they rambunctiously turn the rooms surrounding my dining room table into a movie set, I soldier on valiantly. I weather the thumping and the running; I withstand the yelling and the cries of “Action!” Ultimately, however, my stabs at productivity prove to be fruitless. The girls need my computer to edit their masterpiece, so I barricade myself in my bedroom and watch The Rite, in which Anthony Hopkins plays a possessed priest. The movie is nothing special, but at least Hopkins is quietly possessed.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Today is Halloween, and I’m scared. My deadline for this freelance project is looming, but my work isn’t exactly going smoothly because of all the excitement whirling around me at the dining room table. Liv has invited a dozen or so friends over for trick-or-treating and some arrive early to have an audience with Fluffy. Since Fluffy happens to be seated next to my computer, the girls form an impromptu line there and wait excitedly to pet His Magnificence and perhaps receive a ceremonial bite on the hand. All the while, I ponder the whereabouts of the first-aid kit.
My worries are unfounded: Fluffy doesn’t hurt anyone. Liv and her friends leave to go trick-or-treating, and I race to finish my freelance project before they return.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
A new freelance deadline looms, and a new distraction vexes me. This one dates back to a Friday night in July, when a biblical rainstorm caused my basement to flood. I should have taken it as a sign—stormy times are ahead—but I didn’t. I simply tore up the waterlogged flooring and headed back to work the following Monday.
By September, I had no job to go to on Mondays and still no flooring in my basement. Luckily, our insurance company paid for the basement damage, but since so many people were hit by the storm, the earliest our waterproofer and contractor could get here is now. Not that I’m complaining. If I’ve learned anything the past two months, it’s that fixing stuff can take time, be it a basement or a career.
Over the ear-shattering din of the power tools and hammering below, I quietly type away at the dining room table. Yes, the repairs are underway.
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