Freelance Writing

The Illusion of or the Finding of Work/Life Balance When Working From Home

Working from home. Remote worker. Freelancer. It sound so…freeing…doesn’t it? Wake up when you want. Work in your PJs. No commute. Blah, blah, blah. Blech! Seriously, though. It’s a pain in the rear, but I do it because I love it. Three years of building and I’m just now starting to get a solid footing.

My commute is however long it takes me to wander into the kitchen and make a pot of coffee. And since I try to avoid electrical things, I put the kettle on, put the mesh Melitta filter on the glass Bodum carafe and wait. One hand on the kettle handle partially to warm my hands on a cold Vermont morning and partially not to wake the rest of the house before the whistle blows. Yep, it’s something like 5 a.m. It’s the quietest time I have to work until about 10 a.m.  Laptop steady on my lap and Della wedged between me and my chair’s armrest.

Is it word to take a break from writing to write something else? This morning I sent off an article about finding and keeping talent in the data and analytics. If you’ve got a science-y mindset and want to know are interested in big data, I’ve got ya covered kid. Next, though, I went back to the paranormal ghostwriting gig. Talk about a mindbending switcheroo! And then, another “like” popped in from last week’s Friday Musings #1 and I felt the need to re-read it, since it’s a top performing post and to my mind, I was rambling.

It’s the ability to know I may have a deadline but to have the freedom to take a break to write something else, cook, plan a vacation, exercise, walk the dog, and the list goes on. But, sometimes, the deadlines are too tight and I get lost in the project forgetting to eat, to sleep, and I become a machine. This is the downside to freelancing and owning your own business. This is the illusion of work/life balance. I’m trying to solve it, though, by setting a timer. Thanks Zarah! Sometimes the ticking is like watching the clock in the last class of the day in school or at five minutes to five on a Friday at the office. Oh, I’ve been there and done that, which is why I chose this.

The coffee grows cold in my cup
And the dog sleeps to my right.
The last vestiges of a St. V bouquet fights for life in the window
Overlooking a blanket of white
Deadlines loom like dirty dishes in the sink
Leftovers in the fridge feed the family while I write
The light burns bright day and night
The timer dings, it's time to stop, rest for a while
And dream

© Lisa Street Rogers

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