The stylist listened, trimmed and blow dried gently to keep the curls. When she was done my eyes were drawn to the two puffy wings my bangs had become. Think Dilbert's boss with rectangles. She hadn't cut that much off. How could they elevate like that? Before I went to the salon I asked myself, "what DO I want?" and still ended up with exactly what I didn't. It was an inauspicious start to my day but summed up my January so far.
I've been stressed these past two weeks. As a bookkeeper for my husband's, and two other, small businesses, January means preparing the books for the accountants to do year end taxes. I had been feeling good about the work I'd done through December until the spreadsheet whose formulas I had avoided all year needed to be updated. Yesterday. "When will the books be ready for the accountant?" "Can I get back to you on that?"
The client's emails arrive day and night. 'Would I prepare the 1099's?' Didn't know that was my job, but yes. 'Can you call Vendor today about this bill?' The business account is current-are you sure it's not personal? 'Can you cut an employee reimbursement check?' Yes, but I need supporting documentation. I cross one task off the list but add two more.
By late afternoon I'm ready to nap on the couch but the kids come home from school. "Mom! Mom!" they call and I can't make out what comes next because two, sometimes three, children talk to me at the same time, oblivious to each other, certain they, not their brothers, are being heard. I run to the optometrist's to replace the eyeglasses bent by an errant soccer ball. I field a phone call from the mom whose son was reduced to tears by mine and proceed to conduct an internal investigation. I make a note to set up conference with teacher about unfair consequences for child's missing homework. I fret that I'll lose all the progress I made in physical therapy because I haven't done my exercises in a week.
I tick things off my list, feel like I'm getting ahead, only to receive an email, phone call, or other reminder of something waiting to consume my precious time. I haven't folded laundry since last Thursday. The kids haven't had clean socks in three days. I hope they don't run out of underwear before Saturday.
I'm grateful to have a job. I work from home, set my own hours. I can avoid the weekend Costco crowds by going mid-day, mid-week to feed my four tapeworms. But man, I'm tired. The past few nights I am out when my head hits the pillow and don't recall dreaming. At 10 o'clock tonight I programmed the coffee pot for the next morning and was thrilled to go to bed early but I never made it there. I spent the next hour composing a response to an email my son's science teacher sent about an incident at school. Here it is midnight, my eyes burning like coals, and I'm typing a blog post because I'm annoyed at myself for not having written one in months (again).
Over winter break the entire family was sick with a virus. Fever, runny noses, fatigue. We stayed in our pajamas all day and didn't leave the house. In between naps, I learned how to use our Nexus 7 tablet and the kids taught me how to play Temple Run. By week's end I was thoroughly relaxed.
I rang in the New Year reluctantly because January has too many school holidays and unpredictable weather. My body resisted the quicker pace demanded of it but it wasn't long before my peace was left, like a hippie, to hitchhike on the side of the road. Winter Break's lack of obligations and appointments still tempts me like flannel sheets on a cold night. So much so that I want to riff from a popular jam commercial, "Could you please pass the virus?"
I've been stressed these past two weeks. As a bookkeeper for my husband's, and two other, small businesses, January means preparing the books for the accountants to do year end taxes. I had been feeling good about the work I'd done through December until the spreadsheet whose formulas I had avoided all year needed to be updated. Yesterday. "When will the books be ready for the accountant?" "Can I get back to you on that?"
The client's emails arrive day and night. 'Would I prepare the 1099's?' Didn't know that was my job, but yes. 'Can you call Vendor today about this bill?' The business account is current-are you sure it's not personal? 'Can you cut an employee reimbursement check?' Yes, but I need supporting documentation. I cross one task off the list but add two more.
By late afternoon I'm ready to nap on the couch but the kids come home from school. "Mom! Mom!" they call and I can't make out what comes next because two, sometimes three, children talk to me at the same time, oblivious to each other, certain they, not their brothers, are being heard. I run to the optometrist's to replace the eyeglasses bent by an errant soccer ball. I field a phone call from the mom whose son was reduced to tears by mine and proceed to conduct an internal investigation. I make a note to set up conference with teacher about unfair consequences for child's missing homework. I fret that I'll lose all the progress I made in physical therapy because I haven't done my exercises in a week.
I tick things off my list, feel like I'm getting ahead, only to receive an email, phone call, or other reminder of something waiting to consume my precious time. I haven't folded laundry since last Thursday. The kids haven't had clean socks in three days. I hope they don't run out of underwear before Saturday.
I'm grateful to have a job. I work from home, set my own hours. I can avoid the weekend Costco crowds by going mid-day, mid-week to feed my four tapeworms. But man, I'm tired. The past few nights I am out when my head hits the pillow and don't recall dreaming. At 10 o'clock tonight I programmed the coffee pot for the next morning and was thrilled to go to bed early but I never made it there. I spent the next hour composing a response to an email my son's science teacher sent about an incident at school. Here it is midnight, my eyes burning like coals, and I'm typing a blog post because I'm annoyed at myself for not having written one in months (again).
Over winter break the entire family was sick with a virus. Fever, runny noses, fatigue. We stayed in our pajamas all day and didn't leave the house. In between naps, I learned how to use our Nexus 7 tablet and the kids taught me how to play Temple Run. By week's end I was thoroughly relaxed.
I rang in the New Year reluctantly because January has too many school holidays and unpredictable weather. My body resisted the quicker pace demanded of it but it wasn't long before my peace was left, like a hippie, to hitchhike on the side of the road. Winter Break's lack of obligations and appointments still tempts me like flannel sheets on a cold night. So much so that I want to riff from a popular jam commercial, "Could you please pass the virus?"
