I don’t commute or punch a time clock. As a freelance writer, I’m my own boss. I work from home and set my own hours. Why then do I look forward to the weekends as much as the cubicle dwellers punching time clocks across the metro area? Is the very idea of the relaxed weekend so ingrained in me that I anticipate socially acceptable downtime even when I can take it whenever I want?
I don’t think that’s the case because, like most adults these days, I find that weekends do not mean the end of the workweek. For me weekends involve teaching writing workshops and/or preparing for them. In addition to that, I write every day and spend hours reading contest entries submitted to the Young Voices Foundation, an educational nonprofit established to mentor young writers. I am in and out of my office all day, every day, bouncing between jobs that include the craft of writing (creating) and the business of writing (selling). I ask myself again, why do even think TGIF?
Maybe it’s because my husband is home on the weekends making me as Happy as a Clam. Perhaps it’s because with his help we can finally get the quote we need for the book we are publishing and I’ll See The Light at the End of the Tunnel regarding that project.
Tomorrow Mike will meet with our new accountant with the goal of making sense of all the transactions that occur when running two separate but related businesses. I hate to admit it but the chart of accounts is Greek to Me and that needs to change. The truth is, Mike and I have very different skill sets. I am the creative one. He is the detail person. Together we make a terrific team.
Now I get it. The reason I sit here thinking TGIF is because the weekend means my partner will be here with me, each of us Wearing Our Heart on Our Sleeve, flirting and grabbing a quick smooch on the run, as we work together and live Happily Ever After. Yes indeed, Thank God It’s Friday.