Let's see ... it's December 17 and exactly one week from now I'll be frantically wrapping presents and eating cookies (chocolate chip -- my favorite and plenty on hand) and fudge (also homemade) and drinking Coke. My fillings are vibrating just thinking about it!
And speaking of frantic, last night I emailed the first draft of my first freelance job in a long, long time. I've been a writer for *ahem* years, but lately I've been spending my 9 to 5 time formatting documents, moving them around, and generally doing very unwriterly things. Not very challenging and not very fulfilling.
A friend of mine (Kathy, from KB Comm) approached by a local print-on-demand (among other things) company to write a product brochure. She wasn't interested because her plate is full ... so she asked me if I might want to take on the job.
Now Kathy's offered jobs in the past, and I've always given them a miss for one reason or another ... usually because my multitasking has run amok and one more commitment would likely end with my being committed. This time, however, I'd had a disheartening day at work and was not happy at the thought of doing the same thing for the foreseeable future. So when I checked my email and read Kathy's note, I unhesitatingly said "yes" to the freelance work.
There were the usual bouts of nervousness and impostor syndrome, but I just sucked it up and called the client. She turned out to be very warm and quickly put me at ease. We discussed the job in generalities and, during a later phone conversation, discussed it in specifics, including the money end. Job estimates have never been my strong suit, but this time I knew what it would take to create this 6- to 8-page brochure. There's a real sense of power, I find, when you know what you're talking about -- or are pretty confident that you know what you're talking about.
As I said, I emailed the first draft to the client last night. I'd finished reviewing and tweaking it yesterday, while working on cookies, fudge, and Christmas cards ... oh, and going to the grocery store and library. Multitasking 'r' us.
My insanity, effective treatment for
The one thing I didn't get to do is play with my wool, and I can really tell. Anymore, working with wool (raw, washed, carded, spun, and/or skeined) is my preferred form of self-medication.
Spinning the wool is absolutely addictive. There's something very comforting about moving my feet on the treadles, feeding out the fibers and feeling them spin between my fingertips, and watching the bobbin fill with a strong, slender thread of yarn. I've taught myself to spin, and I pretty much end up with the same kind of yarn, but I love it. It just never gets old. Here it is, nearly a year later, and I'm still spinning away on my Kromski Sonata, last year's Christmas gift from y DH.
There are three bags of wool in my garage just waiting to be washed and carded. There are clients out there who want my writing as much as I want to write for them. And there are kids in this house who just can't wait for next Tuesday and are already bouncing off the walls. And all that's just going to have to wait, because right now, I hear the siren song of my wheel and my wool. Ahhh!