For the first time in eight years, I’ve had a stretch of several work days in a row, alone, in a quiet house. I’m slowly rediscovering my rhythm — the best hours for creativity, the proper balance of tea-making to typing, the stage when it’s best to step away from the computer and rejoin the real world.
I’ve piled up a mountain of work for myself this fall, so it’s not going to all get done in a week, but it’s lovely to feel productive. Time! It truly is an amazing thing.
I’m remembering, too, some of the quirks of working at home. On Wednesday, when my son was tired and cranky from kindergarten, I dragged him to the beach for a bike ride. Why? Because while he was experiencing the world all day, I was in my head, in the house.
It’s a strange truth of working from home. Just when everyone else is coming home, ready to flop on the couch, I need to get out. There may be more evening adventures in our future…