cat named pig

[Editor's Note: The majority of this post was written on. . . wait for it. . . February THIRD. Which I think was also the last time I remembered I had a blog. That should give you some indication of how the whole working thing is going. BUSY, is how it's going. But no dependents (human or feline) have gone unfed, and I think everyone's still wearing relatively clean clothes. It looks like a little blog neglect might be the worst side effect so far. Read on, for a rambling post three weeks in the making. . . .]

So. I have a new job. Well, a couple of new jobs actually. A combination of freelance projects and website editing that all came together in the last few weeks. Since I had made a New Year’s resolution to find work, meaning the steady kind with consistent paychecks (instead of the sporadic kind with infrequent paychecks that I’ve perfected over the last couple years), I am pretty happy about this. In fact, this may be the most resolution-keeping success I’ve ever experienced (my gym card definitely isn’t getting swiped any more often than usual, even though I make that one every year). Now “Get Job” is solidly crossed off the to-do list, and I’m trying to get the hang of having the job(s).

It’s not the working so much that’s a challenge. It’s still doing everything else we were doing before. I don’t want to spend any less time with Elliot during the days (although now we sometimes “spend time together” sitting side-by-side on the couch, me with my MacBook and him with the toy laptop the kids got for Christmas). I don’t want to do any less cooking, cleaning, laundry, or shopping for groceries. (I mean, I want to do a lot less of all that; in fact, I never want to do some of those things again, but I still want them to be done every day. And done my way with care. So we’re readjusting the division of household labor, and I’m trying to take deep breaths and not freak out that OMG THE DISHWASHER IS LOADED WRONG AND THAT WILL NEVER GET CLEAN IF YOU DON’T RINSE IT FIRST.)

To free up some more time, I considered, for a minute, cutting back on the yoga classes I regularly attend. Matt strongly, STRONGLY, encouraged me not to do this. Turns out he likes me better when I consistently go to yoga. Apparently it makes me a nicer person to live with. (Less scream-y about the dishwasher loading, etc.)

So for the most part, our weekday routine of yoga/kids’ gym, home for games of UNO, lunch, dishes, laundry, etc., basically chugs along as it has since the early fall. But now work somehow takes place at the same time: a quick e-mail here, an article posted there, a muttered curse word when the phone rings just as we’re heading out to meet the school bus. Stress levels are slightly elevated (a month in an ashram, like in Eat Pray Love, wouldn’t be enough yoga to make me an ideal housemate under these circumstances) but I think we’re all adjusting.

Siena did tell me the other day that she hates my new job and that, when this job is done, she doesn’t want to hear about me getting any other jobs ever again. “If I even hear you thinking about another new job after this one, Mama, you better just turn and walk away from it and not do it.” Well. OK, then. Tell me how you really feel.

There’s more I want to say about that conversation, but it’s probably going to require a separate blog post. And a margarita.

For now, I want to talk about the best part of my new job(s), aside from the paychecks: I get to work from home. Which was probably obvious when I stated that nothing in the routine has drastically changed, except me being glued to my iPhone for non-Facebook-related reasons. Anyway, I love working from home because it means that I don’t have to go to work in an office. Or a factory. Or any place that would require me to leave my house by a certain time and dressed in a certain manner every morning.

I do have to leave the house on time to get Siena to the bus stop, but I can do it wearing whatever I want. Which mostly, this winter, turns out to be Matt’s red fleece sweatpants and huge boots. And then I can go home and take a shower like a normal person, or answer a work call and scramble around for a while before stopping to make Elliot a sandwich and then looking up to realize hey, it’s 4:00 and Siena’s home and we need snacks and dinner and wow, I should really shower before I go to bed.

Hmm. I do not seem to be painting a glamourous picture here. Do you believe me when I tell you I still find this set-up preferable to purchasing a new wardrobe of business casual separates and driving to work every day? Because I do. And not really because of what I wear.

It’s because of this:

Best officemate ever.