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Holding on to the momentum

standard April 15, 2014 3 responses
Just one of many, many pages of notes.

Just one of many, many pages of notes.

You should see the pages of notes I take at conferences. They’re a mix of transcriptions of speaker soundbites, things I want to remember to look up later, and ideas that have popped into my head during conversations and sessions.

Ideas. So many ideas.

It’s incredible what I can come up with when I hand off all of my regular responsibilities and preoccupations and make more space for my own thoughts.

I’ve yet to come home without a single “I should really do this!” kind of idea. They’re usually big, ambitious ideas too. I come home ready to throw myself into new projects with wild abandon. I feel energized and motivated and pumped to shake things up a lot.

And then there’s laundry. And the dishes. And that school project that needs to be finished. And that volunteer thing. And dinner. And lunches. And email. And the dog needs to be walked. The house needs to be tidied. Oh, and all of my other projects and deadlines need attention. And of course the fact that new projects are rarely lucrative at first, and can I really afford to work for “free” even more than I already do?

And everything slowly creeps back into my brain until I start to feel almost more overwhelmed than I did before I left.

The problem with working for yourself at home is that there’s no one to help you prioritize your tasks. There’s no one to bounce off ideas to see if they are worthwhile or just plain silly. It’s a challenge, and the dog is really no help at all.

I’m not tabling my new ideas quite yet. I’m still in love with them, still hopeful that I’ll find a way to make them work. But, more urgently, I need to find a way to maintain that level of motivation and passion after I get home and re-immerse myself into my life, after I open up my brain to contain all of the children’s lives and issues, all of the puppy’s needs and wants, all of the house’s demands.

I worry that if I don’t, those ideas will perish the same way so many other great ideas have died, only living on the pages of an old abandoned conference notebook, gathering dust on the back of a shelf filled with countless others. And that would be a crying shame.

Is it Friday yet?

standard November 17, 2011 Leave a response

This morning I found myself being grateful that we were only one day away from the weekend. Such a knee jerk reaction of the gainfully employed. But I work for myself now. If I don’t want to work… I don’t have to. 

Except I do.

I mean, except I want to. Or at least I should.


I have these goals and dreams and I need to do something about them. I want to do something about them. I need to send out emails. I need to write proposals. I need to network and put myself out there.

I feel like I’ve spent the last two weeks bumbling along, vague goals in mind, puttering around.

Then finally, on Tuesday, I woke up, filled with focus and direction. I’d been waiting to feel this way for weeks now. I knew exactly what I was going to do during the day, what I was going to accomplish.

It was a… good day. A good day that was supposed to end with a networking event where I was going to shine.

I left Starbucks with enough time to rush home to gussy up before heading back north to pick up Little L from daycare. The plan was that M would collect C and we’d meet halfway for dinner. He’d take them home while I went on to my event.

But, as we all know, the best laid plans always go awry.

First, M got waylaid at the office.

I was undaunted. I could work with that. Grab both kids, feed them, then hand them off when he could get there. I’d be an hour late. Tops.

And then.

The call.

Just as I was pulling into the driveway at home, 30 minutes from school.

C had fallen off the monkey-bars and was refusing to stand. Could I please come get her early?

A million things ran through my head as I grabbed a decent pair of shoes, a jacket, and a belt before jumping back into the car and driving like a maniac to her school.

When I got there she was still lying on her back, pale as a sheet, clearly scared out of her mind. It took me seconds to decide that we were going to the ER.

The whole plan was derailed.

A friend collected Little L from daycare. I took C to the ER.

And three hours later, on the way home, clean bill of health from the doctors in hand, I had to fight off the urge to just fall asleep right then and there.

That brief burst of mojo that appeared on Tuesday was gone just as quickly as it had come. I’m doing my level best to get it back, but it’s elusive; scared by the thought that if it does comes back, something else will just come along to derail it again.

It’s been that kind of year. 

There’s one day left to this week. One last day to salvage the wreck and get something tangible done.

I’ll find a way to do it, mojo or no. I started this morning by making a to do list. With a little luck I’ll get through it before the end of Friday. It’ll take some effort, but I need to do it.

I need to keep moving forward.