Monday, 07:45
“Bye, kiddos! Have a good day at school!”
The door slams behind them. I look out at the wild, wet weather and feel grateful that it’s not me who has to don all my wet weather gear to walk the 300m to school.
Instead, I turn from waving at them through the kitchen window to the bench where my cup of English Breakfast tea is waiting for me. And this, people, is the moment of truth for anyone who works from home. It’s like a choose-your-own-adventure – do I take the cup and walk straight upstairs to my office? Or do I sit down at the kitchen table and waste half an hour scrolling and clicking my way through Facebook and Instagram?
Let’s pretend that on this day the good angel has won and I eagerly trot off to my office to get started (we must also assume that I’ve showered and dressed – not always to be taken for granted).
08:00
I sit down at my desk and boot up the computer. Five seconds later it announces that it needs to do an update. I click on the ‘remind me’ option. Repeat this at least five times over the next couple of days before allowing it to actually do the update.
I need to have a quick look at my schedule for the week, make sure I’ve carved out time for some marketing, invoicing and all the other little unpaid jobs a freelancer needs to do.
Finally, I open the manuscript I’m working. Woo hoo! The final third of my cuppa is abandoned as I focus fully on my work and the editing juices flow. This is great! Until…
08:45
Uh oh. This sentence isn’t right. It’s not terrible, but there’s something just a bit off about it. It interrupts the flow. I read it out loud. Oh, there it is. Now, how can I best finesse it so that it both fits in with the context of the piece and with the author’s voice?
08:50
Still not right (stare out window, tap fingers together).
08:55
Give up, save work, pop down to the cellar to put on a load of washing, refill tea. Contemplate calling plumber about dodgy-sounding washing machine but chicken out because can’t face the telling off I’ll get about not having properly dealt with limescale.
09:05
Re-read tricky sentence. Well, duh. That was obvious. Move on, it’s flowing again. Stop a couple of times to check reference books (including looking up ‘further’ and ‘farther’ for the millionth time because no matter how well trained you are or how much experience you have, some stuff just refuses to stick).
10:30
Tired eyes need a break. So naturally I open Facebook for a quick scroll. If I’m lucky, my favourite thread of the week, Carnival Time on Louise Harnby’s Training for Editors and Proofreaders, will be up. I love this bit of Monday motivation and good vibes.
10:50
I have just over an hour before the kids come home for lunch. I live in Switzerland and the school hours are nuts. The kids are home from about 12:15 until 13:30. They go back to school three afternoons a week for another hour and a half. Yes, you read that right. Two days a week they’re home the whole afternoon.
At this point I always set an alarm so that I don’t get caught out when the kids come home wanting to be fed. One sweet day they will be able to make lunch by themselves, but today is not that day.
12:15
“Mum! We got a test back, we have a notice you have to sign, can I have money for the class trip, can I sleep over at Sarah’s house, Peter’s mum lets him have salami sticks for his snack, why can’t I have salami sticks?”
13:30
Shoo the kids out the door, head straight for the kettle. Wonder for the millionth time if dishwashers are actually invisible to children, or if perhaps there’s an evolutionary reason for why they leave their dishes in the sink every. Single. Time.
13:35
Back at the computer, work for about an hour before needing a quick break. Use the time to take out the washing I forgot was in the machine.
14:45
Post a question about a particular Americanism to a Facebook page – try very hard not to get distracted from task at hand. Highlight section in doubt and carry on for a couple more pages. Check Facebook page again – yes! The answer is there, plus a link to a helpful page. Love, love, love these helpful people.
15:30
Sproglets are home. Claim to be starving, must be fed before homework and activities start. Throw cheese, crackers and fruit onto a couple of plates and enthusiastically introduce them to the dishwasher, that magical receptacle of dirty dishes.
16:30
Bundle one child off to football, the other across the road to play with her friend. Get in a sneaky hour of planning and editing-related reading.
17:45
Yes, I really do want to close down my computer, but thanks for checking.