You know how they say that “In space, no one can hear you scream?”

This week I’ve amended that to: “In your home office, no one can see you sneaking Sour Patch Kids fifteen times a day.”

I’m ashamed. Yes. I really am. Also: I’m eating Sour Patch Kids. Right now, as I type this. I’m desperately hoping that outing my addiction will help me to break it.

And I know that working in an office doesn’t make you immune to poor snacking choices. Heck, I worked in one office that had a fully stocked kitchen of junk food at all times, and I remember lamenting that they kept food around I would never buy at home, that I then found myself eating. The snack trap certainly isn’t limited to working with others or working at home. It’s not even limited to Halloween-time, thought this is pretty much the only time we’ll have candy in the house.

No, my problem is that I’m terrible at moderation and there’s no one here to see me.
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(Pictured here: Not my actual computer, which was not harmed in the making of this post.)

So, I consider myself pretty savvy in the ways of the online world, you know? I blog for a living. I know my way around the keyboard and I’ve been around the Internet a few times. This isn’t my first rodeo. And while you’ll never see me claiming to be a “social media expert” (I know some people really are that, but I also know that pretty much anyone with a computer feels justified calling themselves that, these days), I feel like I’ve done a decent job keeping up with the various online outlets which allow for networking and socializing and staying abreast of what’s going on.

I also usually have a good chuckle whenever anyone starts complaining about changes in any sort of free online service as if it’s actually something that matters. Sort of like… oh…
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“The most wonderful thing about being a freelance writer is that I can work anywhere.” I wish I had a nickel for every time I’ve said that to someone. Especially now, when I’m realizing it’s such a dirty lie.

Oh, sure, technically it’s true—I have my laptop, I have a wireless internet connection, and I can sit down and so some where almost anywhere, provided that I have those with me. Yes. And I do… sometimes. But the bulk of my work is done here at my desk, in my office, which is how I like it.

And right now my office is trying to kill me. And by “trying to kill me” I of course mean “surrounded by noisy contractor wielding saws and pneumatic nail guns and heavy boots.”

Yay for home improvement! Boo for trying to work from home while it’s happening!
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(Pictured here: Not me. But that’s totally what I look like right now on the inside.)

So it’s nearly 3:00 on Tuesday as I sit down to write this, and up until about an hour ago I was convinced that today was Monday. It’s, uh, not. The weird thing is that I had deadlines yesterday and I met them all and yet, this morning, I was sure it was Monday. Again? Still? I really don’t know.

My kids didn’t have school yesterday, so that’s part of the problem. It made the day feel Not Like A Regular Work Day, so I’m going to blame that for my temporary time warpage. That’s the first rule of parenting, anyway, isn’t it? Blame the children? I’m sure it said that in my manual.

Oh, don’t be jealous just because you didn’t get a manual. Anyway, my confusion over the day isn’t really the point here.
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Unless you were an accountant in a former life, you should have an accountant.

Heck, even if you were an accountant, you should probably have an accountant. Isn’t there some rule there like how doctors can’t operate on family members and accountants should do their own books? (I may be making that up. But I’m just sayin’.)

I’ve talked about this before. I think part of going into business for yourself is recognizing your strengths and weaknesses, and outsourcing as needed. I’m very good at what I do—freelance writing—but I am not good at bookkeeping, and furthermore, I’d really rather not be on the hook alone if I ever get audited. It’s a headache I don’t need. So I have an accountant. And I think he’s worth every penny.

Having said that, this morning I’m scratching my head a little bit, and am reminded that one of the key benefits of having an accountant is that you can ask specific questions about your own specific business practices and situations.
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So I finally decided that part of what I needed to do to break out of my recent slump was to make my workspace more inviting.

Although I would generally characterize myself as a tidy person, I am also something of a piler. And my desk tends to be the worst victim. When I wrote last week’s post, there wasn’t an inch of my office desk that wasn’t under something, even though it’s a pretty spacious L-shaped monstrosity.

That clearly wasn’t going to work. How could I feel motivated to work in such a cluttered space? (Answer: I didn’t. Which, on the one hand, sent me over to my little standing desk more often, which is good, but it also often just caused me to take one look at my office and turn around and leave, which is not.)

This morning I started cleaning, finally. I can’t say I’ve completely cleaned my desk, but let’s take a little gander at what treasures were unearthed this morning.
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(Pictured here: Someone who is not me, but who appears to be experiencing a similar level of ennui.)

I’m in a slump. That’s not the same as having writer’s block, by the way—I don’t really believe in writer’s block—but it is, nonetheless, a rather unnerving state to be in. I feel uninspired. I’m tired. I’m lazy. I do a bare minimum of work and then… I sit around and think to myself, “I should be doing more work right now.”

This is not wholly unexpected. Summer was both busy and stressful (due to a variety of non-work reasons), and I pulled back from working so much because my kids needed me, and I needed a bit of a break. Now that everyone is back to school, I have more time. I feel like I should be feeling great.

Instead, I just want to take a nap.
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They say the road to Hell is paved with good intentions, and I completely understand that. Heck, I’ve lived that. Back in the 90s, I made fun of people who had cell phones. “I never want to be that important,” I’d murmur to friends, watching blowhards conducting business transactions in the middle of the grocery store, shouting into their phones while the rest of us were just trying to find the best deal on breakfast cereal. “Who needs to have a phone with them everywhere? That’s just crazy.”

But then I had my first baby, and suddenly, a cell phone seemed like a good idea. You know—for emergencies. And then you know what happened after that, right? “Just for emergencies” became “well, as long as I’m in the car I’ll return some calls” became “you can reach me at absolutely any time at this number.” And then one day it was time to get a new cell phone and it was the weirdest thing—now you could actually check email on your phone if you wanted to. Huh. Well, that might be handy… you know, in case of emergency.

Down the slippery slope I went. By the time I got my first iPhone, I was freelancing. It was a business purchase; I would need to be reachable, even away from a computer, and while shuttling kids around to various things, it sure was handy to at least be able to catch up on email.
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Longtime readers know that every now and then I go on a little rampage about so-called professional freelancers who are willing to work for way less than a viable living wage, and how that impacts the field as a whole and can make it more difficult for those of us charging real rates to find employment. The truth of the matter is that I do believe in two cliches when it comes to this matter: First, that you get what you pay for, and second, that the cream has a tendency to rise.

In short: Yes, I wish everyone would work for reasonable pay, because it would make life easier for all of us, but I also believe that those of us who are true professionals justify our higher rates with quality work, and there will always be a market for that.

That said, there’s not too much of a problem as a seasoned professional when deciding whether or not to take a job that only pays $5/post (hint: hell no). But what about the job that pays just a little bit less than what you’re currently charging? What about the job that has the tendency to expand and fill more time, rendering the pay rate too low?

What about if you really need the money?
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I got married—the first time—when I was a tender young whelp in grad school. I was very young. (And also very stupid, but that’s a topic for another post entirely.)

My advisor sat me down one day and asked me if I was planning to change my name. I was; I had no real attachment to my birth surname, and I knew I wanted to have children, and I wanted to have the same last name as my kids (it just seemed easier). To my surprise, my advisor counseled me (quite strongly) to reconsider. I’d already been published! I should keep my current name to avoid confusion! Not only that, he said, but if I changed my name I would regret it if I later got divorced, and that would make a real mess of my professional “paper trail” if I then decided to change back.

Like most of college professors, he was… smart, but a little odd. I remember laughing at him, because, Silly, I’m not going to get divorced! (Ah, youth!) I got married. I changed my name. Years passed. I had one child, then another. Everyone in our family had the same last name. Everything was fine.

And then we got divorced.
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