As a freelance writer, do you ever find yourself breaking the rules of the working world? I don’t mean that you necessarily do sub-par work, mind you, just that things get done a little differently than they would if you had a boss watching over your shoulder?
For example, I just left a doctor’s appointment—one that I had scheduled during regular work hours. When I headed back out to the car, it struck me that rather than picking up some fast-food fare and eating at my desk, I really wanted to go to this one particular restaurant. These two events are not unrelated, by the way. The appointment was with my OB, and the restaurant serves a spectacular broccoli-cheddar soup that I seem to be craving with some regularity during this pregnancy.
“But, I need to be responsible,” I chided myself. “I need to get some work done.”
“Sooooooouuuup,” pregnant me responded the way a zombie would plead for brains.
“All right, all right,” I started to relent. “Let me at least look at my schedule.” I sat in the parking lot at the doctor’s office and fired up my laptop.
“Aha!” cried soup-deprived me. “There’s something right there that doesn’t require Internet access. I can sit at the table and work on that while waiting for my soooooooouuup.”
I double-checked my to-do list and made a few calculations regarding the number of hours available before I have to go relieve the babysitter in comparison with the number of hours worth of work I need to accomplish in that timeframe. Hungry, pregnant me tried not to gloat as I realized that there was, in fact, at least one small project I could work on in the quiet restaurant.
“OK,” I conceded, “but there are two conditions. One: You have to order a salad, too, to make up for that basket of fried stuff you had for dinner.”
“You got it.”
“And two: If you’re going to make writing a blog post into an excuse for eating out, you’d better at least be funny.”
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