I work pretty hard at being happy. I work even harder at finding peace and calm, at acknowledging what I can’t control and letting go of my desire to try anyway. I’m probably more aware than most of my state of mind at any given moment, and I feel a fair amount of responsibility about what that state might be.

I suppose that’s why it pisses me off so much when anxiety or fear come calling.

Of course, none of us likes anxiety or fear. As a species, we go to great and sometimes ridiculous lengths to avoid these cold, prickly feelings. Our instincts are to run from, ignore, or push down that which keeps us awake at night.

As a species, we’re kind of stupid.
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Ah, the mobile lifestyle. So glamorous. So bohemian. So new agey and hip and now.

So, I spent last night sleeping on the concrete floor of a handicap bathroom. No one in my family is handicapped, but it was the largest unoccupied space in the bath house of the campground where we’re currently “living”, which allowed my entire family of four to huddle on the same floor together.

Technically, my husband and kids slept while I laid awake listening to the storm rage outside. My body has become too accustomed to memory foam to be able to sleep on a concrete floor, even with the hasty padding of a king-size comforter that was wrapped burrito style around us. The three of them were exhausted after the 1:30 am wake-up call that came from pounding rain, blinding lightning, and howling wind that actually shook the RV, exhausted enough to fall asleep once we’d relocated to the safest place I could think of when the watches turned to warnings on my iPhone’s weather app.
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I declared this the year of good health . I acknowledged that taking care of myself was better not only for my personal health and happiness, but for my business. I decided to start with small changes, like getting up and doing yoga every morning.

I made it five days in a row.

I don’t even know what happened. I have continued to go to bed at a decent time and get up early, but instead of doing a bit of stretching, I opened my computer and went to work right away one morning. By the time I realized what I’d done, I was pretty solidly into the flow and couldn’t tear myself away for 30 minutes of deep breathing and stretching. Before I knew it, a week and had gone by and I hadn’t so much as touched my toes.
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Today my daughter and I are boarding a plane bound for an all-inclusive resort in the Caribbean. We’ll spend four days enjoying white beaches, spa treatments, and VIP pampering. It’s our very first mother-daughter getaway, and we’re setting the bar high.

Oh, and it won’t cost me a dime.

The tab for this trip is being picked up by the PR company representing the resort. As a travel writer, I am invited to go on press trips like this (OK, not like this, this is definitely one of the best so far!) several times a year. I also receive free hotel rooms, admission to world-class attractions, and meals at fabulous restaurants.

I don’t get health insurance, but there’s no doubt that the benefits of my “job” are fabulous.
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I asked my friends on Facebook to recommend a cleanse to start my 2012 off Gwyneth style.

I made a vision board that focused on health as a pathway to happiness.

I wrote about embracing the end of the year as a time to step back and relax, to regroup instead of moving forward.

So really, it’s my own fault that I spent about three weeks battling a combination of viruses I now refer to as the Iowa Plague. I basically asked to be knocked on my proverbial butt, forced to let work and my usual end-of-month organizing slide. My colon, I assure you, is cleansed.
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As I watched my mother-in-law flip back and forth through notebook pages and loose sheets of paper trying to find the most updated version of her Christmas shopping list, I realized how much time and energy I’ve saved over the last year since going paperless. I’ve never considered myself an overly organized person, but I could access my holiday list in about 30 seconds and tell you exactly which gifts have been purchased and how much of my holiday budget is left - and I could do it from a crowded shopping mall if necessary. I can also pull up every single one of my business and personal receipts from 2011, each of which has been tagged according to type of expense and potential tax deduction.

You’ll have to excuse me if this sounds like bragging; I’m still a little mystified that I’ve managed to maintain an efficient filing system for several months in a row.
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Here we go again: the kids are off of school and the rest of the world tries not to let that interfere with their non-vacation schedule. While I don’t recall my vacations being an inconvenience for anyone when I was a child, it seems every parent I know goes into full on scramble mode when holiday breaks leave children home during the week.

My children have been on break from their virtual school since last Friday. Fortunately, we’re visiting relatives in Iowa right now and the kids have been able to focus on spending time with loved ones instead of homework. Of course, I still have projects to finish up and deadlines to meet. Am I freaking out about my lack of routine?
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One of the things I appreciate about my lifestyle - that of a digital nomad who lives and works on the road full time - is that I am pretty much the boss of everything. I decide when I’ll work, play, and sleep. I pick which projects I’ll work on and which I’ll turn down. I get to choose whether I’ll accept or negotiate deadlines. I eat breakfast at noon if I want and have no consequences for spending the entire day in my pajamas. As you might imagine, it takes a fair amount of self discipline to keep this train on the tracks, what with no one waiting to tell me what to do.

I tend to keep that train moving by focusing first on activities that pay me. Specifically, I start my day with the highest paying tasks and move on down the list according to dollar amount and proximity of deadline. This perfectly sounds logical, yes?

Unfortunately, no one pays me to brush my teeth.
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Not having a boss is awesome.

Except for the part where you don’t have a boss.

By that I mean, there’s no one around to make sure I’m on task. Sure, my kids demand to eat regularly, which is a constant reminder that money must come into the household, but by the time they’re clamoring for food it’s too late to worker harder or smarter. I have to rely on my own internal motivation and self discipline like a real grown up.

This would be a heck of a lot easier were it not for the Internet.

Facebook and Twitter are just the tip of the distraction iceberg. YouTube and its plethora of music and comedy can feed my ADD for hours. My Google Reader is always full of blogs waiting to entertain and inspire. My inbox is as much a to-do list as a but don’t do it now! trap.

And now, the world has fallen in love with Pinterest.
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I’m reading about Secret Santa drawings and office holiday parties, and I admit to being a little jealous. Yes, I get to roll out of bed at 9:30 in the morning. No, my lunch isn’t going to mysteriously disappear from the fridge. But working outside of the typical office environments also means I don’t have face to face interactions with co-workers. Ever.

I am by nature an autonomous worker, a trait that makes the mobile lifestyle a good fit for me, but occasionally I miss lunches with colleagues. I don’t miss meetings, necessarily, but I do miss having someone in my field readily available for brainstorming and feedback. My husband and children don’t make the best sounding boards for questions on marketing or target demographics.
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