ADailyDrama

Life just doesn't get any better…

How to keep sane while working from home…

When you have kids and family demands, working at home seems like a good idea, right?  Here are some of the pros and cons, and how it really works.

The pros:  I work from home.

I am available any time anyone needs me.

The cons:  I work from home.

I’m available any time anyone needs me.

For example, I have a simple transcription job this morning that should take about three hours.  I usually save the transcription work for when the kids are home.  It doesn’t take too much brain power, but I do need uninterrupted interrupted (over and over again) time to finish it.  I figure that it should be easy-peasy.  Not so fast, girlfriend, you are about to be humbled:

Here’s how it has gone so far:

7:30 am

Get out materials, coffee, pens, paper.

Download needed files, set up Word doc.

7:45

(Rats!  Everybody is waking up already.  It’s SATURDAY people!  During the school week, it’s murder waking you up.  I better clean the kitchen up before everyone makes it worse.)

Clean kitchen.

While I’m cleaning the kitchen, Tadpole says, “Hey mom, I’ll help you by doing some of your work for you.”  And she proceeds to type furiously in my new document, asking questions and updating her progress every five seconds. “What do these red, squiggly lines mean?”  “I have 56 words already!”  “I bet you are so, so happy that I’m getting this started for you.”

Did she say, “I’ll help you by rinsing dishes”?  No.

8:30

More coffee.  Kiss Tadpole on the head and shoo-shoo her away from my computer.  (She’s cute, what can I say?)

Start a new word doc.  Begin working.

8:45

Tadpole and Froglet are laughing/fussing/crying/grousing loudly at each other.  Break up fight.  Froglet mutters, “shut up” to me under her breath. (She’ll pay for that later.)

9:15

Back to work.  I’m really getting into it now.  I’ll be finished in no time.

9:20

“Hey mom, do you know where the clippers are?”  “Mom, are there any tamales left?” “Can I play my game?”  “We want to workout in the garage, but it needs to be cleaned.” “Can you help me with my ponytail?”

RINSE.  REPEAT.  RINSE.  REPEAT.

Current time:  2:48 p.m.

Work completed:  1 hour

*sigh*

Here’s how you pay back the mouthy child that likes to say “shut up” to her mother.  While I’m helping Froglet with her ponytail, a discussion about the birthmark she has on the back of her shoulder/neck area.

She says, “I’ve never seen it.  I don’t know what it looks like.  Take a picture for me.”

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It’s cute, right?

“Let me trace it for you, so you can see it better.”

Froglet, “Wait!? Is that a sharpie you are using?  That won’t come off.  Don’t.”

“Shhhhhh…”

Froglet, “MOM!”

“Okay.  I’ll just trace it a little.  You can’t even see it in the picture.”

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Froglet, “Why are you getting another color?  You already traced it and took a picture.”

“Shhhhhh….”

“What are you doing?  Gawd, mom!”

“Shhhhhh….”

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PAYBACK!

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Who needs to work anyway?

Me. *sigh*

I guess the kids have to eat.  Considering their ginormous appetites, they might have turned to crime or cannibalism if I hadn’t of stepped in.

I actually love to work.  It gives me a purpose, goals, and much inspiration.  So what’s with all the *big sigh* drama, you say?

I started freelancing, which has taken me away from the fun-nery of blogging and leisurely blog reading.  I’ve been getting some decent work and steady pay, but mostly, have lost the desire to run into oncoming traffic to give myself a bona fide excuse for severely neglected house projects.

Dishes?  What?!  How can I be expected to do the dishes when I have this big, important, high-paying job I’m trying to do here?  Did I mention that I’m still in my PJs?  There are deadlines, but — me being me — I make things more difficult than necessary.

For instance, I bid on a transcription job that was for this guy who had recorded a “reading” with a spiritual guide.  It was pretty entertaining because… Wow!  I got a front-row seat to cah-razy!  Our spiritual guide was telling poor sap that he actually didn’t belong in this world.  He was from the Fifth Dimension, and worked best in the Eleventh Dimension.  His Teachers, speaking all scary-like through the spiritual guide, told him that he had a special [insert vague, other-worldly] job here on Earth.

Yes, our alien friends are coming to save you from the mundane, sir, don’t you worry.

Easy-peasy, right?  It wasn’t going to be published anywhere important.  The guy basically just wanted it, in writing, so that he could feed his ego. Ya know, re-read how special he was. He was uber importante’ in relation to the rest of us peons that weren’t from the Fifth Dimension, but solidly ground in reality.  The rest of us are stuck in perpetual servitude, that is, making the actual world go ’round.  I don’t know, maybe he wanted to pass it around, show his mama or friends or whoever.

Point being, I complete the audio portion, all giggles, and move on to editing.  *GROAN*  I realized that I was not consistent with some capitalization and punctuation, etc. and spent twice as much time agonizing over details than I should have.  My husband would call that a waste of money.  You know, that “time equals money” blather.

Apparently, that does not compute in my teeny, little hyper-focused brain of mine.   It is much more important for me to not miss that punctuation error that nobody cares about.  Curse you punctuation gods!

I am currently plugging away on an elephant of a job, that… It’s just too painful to talk about right now.  Just… no.  We can’t go there yet.

2 Comments »

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