I’ve been working towards one significant professional goal for several months now:

Get published in print.

(I’m pretty sure that’s not cool to admit out loud, but whatever.)

In order to research that goal, I’ve invested hours and money on research and tools. I’ve pushed through the scary first steps and I’ve “put myself out there.” A lot.

Thus far, all of my bylines are still digital.

The last few days I’ve been struggling with the decision to quit. It’s hard to work with no feedback (which is pretty typical in publishing) and I’m cognizant of all the people who want to be published writers and never are. My family is planning a move and will be setting up a new home soon, which is going to require money I’m not making from researching and pitching. I’m going to have to make some choices about the future of my career. But how?
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For all my talk about freedom and self reliance, I’ve been dealing with a lot of anxiety recently. The root of my fears is uncertainty.

I don’t know where my kids are going to go school next fall.

I’m not sure what my husband will be doing to earn a living in a few months.

I’m not sure where my career is going.

I’m not certain what city–or even state–my family will be living in by the end of this summer.

After spending 10 months moving from campground to campground as my family and I traveled around the country, you’d think I’d have made my peace with uncertainty. As it turns out, I’m still scared of all the things I do not know.
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It’s tax time.

Or rather, it’s tax time for people who put off doing their taxes until the last minute. People like me.

While I was gathering all of my paperwork this morning in preparation, I lamented my lack of 1) an accountant, 2) a consistent filing system, and 3) ability to be a real grown up. I do this every year.
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I’m reading another book about organization and productivity. This time, I have been reading it aloud to my family so that we can all benefit from the wisdom that is guaranteed to result in more effective lives. It seemed like a good idea at the time, until my husband almost had a nervous breakdown.
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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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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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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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One of the biggest advantages of working remotely - flexibility - is also one of the things that makes working on the road so difficult. Like many people, I love routine and am most productive when I can quickly get into the flow of creating. Airport lounges and unpredictable hours can make slipping into a working frame of mind a slower process, which equals less work done on the road.

Unfortunately, I live on the road right now. All of my work is done from a “remote” location and so I’m constantly adjusting to a new environment. However, some weeks require more flexibility than others, like when I’m on a short business trip or press tour. These trips are loaded with travel, meetings, tours, and very little downtime. The downtime I do have is usually spent at an airport gate or on an airplane, or in a hotel room after 9 o’clock at night. Of course, I have my laptop with me in these places and can almost always access the internet — so what’s the problem?

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I am one week into living and working on the road. Here’s what I’ve realized:

I spend way more time working that I thought.

I set aside an hour in the morning to work and spend all of it checking email, writing exactly nothing. I tell my family I’ll work a little bit before we hop back in the car for our next destination, only to find it takes me four hours to do two hours worth of work.

Apparently I have no concept of how long a task will take me. I’m not sure how this hasn’t become an issue before now; I guess because there was no one standing by and watching my hours stretch past their original boundaries of schedule.
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This is the last post I’ll write for Full Time, All the Time from the comfort of anything resembling an office. This is probably also the last week I can reasonably claim to work “full time.”

One week from today, my family and I are moving out of our suburban home and into a 24 foot travel trailer RV. For the next year, we’ll tow that portable house all over the United States with our old SUV, working and living in cities and campgrounds that promise free or cheap WiFi. My kids are calling it The Biggest Vacation Ever, but I won’t exactly be on vacation. I’ll still be working - although hopefully less than full time - because someone has to pay for the campground fees and cereal.

Things, they are a-changin’.

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