I've been fortunate in my working life to have a flexible schedule and the option to telecommute. Since Happy was a baby, I've worked from home at least one day per week, and there were a few years when I was at home three days per week. Telecommuting allows me to breathe in and out, to catch up on laundry or errands, to have a day when I don't feel chained to email and can actually catch up on editing. Telecommuting just generally keeps me sane.
Now I work from home as often as I can, but always always always on Fridays. It's the only way I can regroup from a busy week. And let's face it: Most weeks have even busier Saturdays and Sundays, so it's nice to have Friday to sit still.
The view from my Friday office |
Right now I am sitting on my deck, sipping coffee with a manuscript on my lap. I'm breathing deeply, enjoying the September sun on my back. The kids are at school. The cat has taken his usual position, curled up by my feet. A wren scolds us from her perch in the cherry tree. A cricket sings in the veggie garden. A lawnmower buzzes on the next block. I have a direct view of my stringbean teepee shaking ever so slightly in the breeze; soon it will be time to turn over the garden, but not before we nibble a few more sweet, crunchy beans.
I met a friend for coffee this morning, then came home and caught up on the week's email. I read two chapters of a book that has been my dream project, and I learned that we exceeded our annual revenue forcast by almost 25%. I now have time to vacuum the house and shower before Happy comes home from school.
Fridays are sacred here.
I feel full and satisfied. I'm grateful.
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