Tag Archives: morning

Wash the Pandas

I have an obscene amount of work to do, and that leads to stress, so I woke up ridiculously early this morning and washed the pandas. Part of the stop smoking thing is washing everything, all of the curtains, most of my clothes. I finally got around to the pandas. That’s Rufus on the left. She was bought in Japan but made in the good old U. S. of A., which gives you some idea of how long we’ve had her. The one on the right with the fake bamboo was made in China and doesn’t have a name. Suggestions are welcome.

PENTAX DIGITAL CAMERAI continue to be grateful for the work, but I’m a little overwhelmed. Most of it is stuff I have to do here at the computer, alone in my sweats, trying to ignore the incessant construction going on in the neighborhood. Finding the motivation to keep going is hard. We’ve got math again, and while I don’t enjoy that much, I can break it up with checking scripts and writing projects. Variety is the spice and all that.

PENTAX DIGITAL CAMERASo I hung the pandas out to dry (by their ears, poor things!) and we went for an early morning wake-up walk. It had been such a long time since I’d done that, I had forgotten what early morning smells like, which is pretty much what the rest of the day smells like, just earlier.

Then back home and back to work. As Rochi says, until the math is done, every day is Monday. But sometimes it helps to wash the pandas.

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A Tough Week Tale

Gosh, what a week. Three days in a row I had to get up early, face the crowded trains, and go to work, where I am expected to be both pleasant and efficient. This is hard for me. I suppose if you have to do it every day, you get used to it. But my schedule is totally unpredictable. Every week is different.

I know what you’re thinking. “Awwww. Poor little freelancer. Some people do that every single day, you lazy Lima bean.”

Yeah, well, some people actually like morning. I’m not one of them, and never have been. Family lore holds it that mornings in my house went like this:

Mom goes into my brother’s room. Gentle kiss on the forehead. Angelic smile. “Good morning, mommy.”

Then she goes into my sister’s room. Another gentle kiss on the forehead. Another angelic smile. “Good morning, mommy.”

Then she stands in the doorway to my room, throws a shoe at me and yells, “Mouse! Get up!”

Apparently, it was dangerous to get any closer to my bed than that. I’m told I was a thrasher. I have no recollection of this, but even now, people who live with me know that it is unwise to speak to me before I’ve had my morning coffee.

It’s not like I’m a night person, either. I used to be, but these days I go to bed pretty early. Maybe I just don’t like being awake.

I do like being freelance, though, despite the uncertainty. I can’t imagine going to the same job day after day and doing the same thing over and over. I feel like I’ve created the career I’m pursuing, and I like the variety. I’ll never cure cancer or invent a better mousetrap, but I do good work, smile a lot, and always make my deadlines.

If anybody has any complaints about that, you’re welcome to lodge them, just not before 10:00 a.m. I can’t vouch for what may happen if you do. It is possible that the universe will implode, and I don’t want to be responsible for that kind of thing.