While at times I’m sure some may think of me as a neanderthal, I’d have to say meanderthal pretty much nails it.
After hearing about the 57th person who has successfully published a widely acclaimed book before forgetting the time to pick up my daughter from dance I have realized that my middle aged, running to just catch life, is a series of near misses and accidental minor successes.
Thankfully, blogger Amy Wright’s latest post stopped me from calling the neurologist as I was convinced it was a tumor, early dementia or all those days in my 20′s really did consume every brain cell I had left.
The funny thing about working from home is you work in a vacuum (and sometimes with the vacuum,while editing a story or doing story research). You spend most of your days essentially alone but in a whirlwind of trying to converge several different categories of work/tasks into a seamless, logical day. Amy said it won’t work in her blog and I’m living proof that the girl knows what she’s talking about.
So back to that book. As a “writer” (and I like to put that in quotes because when people ask me what I’ve written I can only rattle off endless articles until their eyes glaze over), the quintessential book is something many hope to achieve. The irony is that I don’t read. I don’t dislike reading, however writing 3,000 plus words a day, yelling at children, driving children, pulling pieces of furniture from the dog’s jaws and making something that resembles dinner leaves little to do but watch bubble gum TV and collapse.
So working a non-compartmentalized life can do that to you perhaps. There is a book inside but frankly writing it would require more than 15 minutes a day; something perhaps many people who work from home don’t have (or many people in the general populous).
Which leaves me to my day of meandering. Meandering through the work, the driving, the dinner…meandering to just make enough money to pay bills and stay afloat. Not the reaching that pinnacle but being just good enough to pay for groceries this week.
Which has to be enough for now. I certainly cannot even form a sentence and people probably think that English is my second language past the hour of 9:30pm; but to think there are thousands of parents who work full time jobs and author dozens of books leaves me in awe-inspired bewilderment.
I’ll keep that in mind while I mop the dog pee left on the bathroom floor from last night. She should have put a bow on top and greeted me with a “tah dah.”
Gina Ragusa is a freelance writer and mom from sunny (and sometimes not) South Florida. Her 15 year experience ranges from writing about banking to tattoo parlors.