A thousand curses upon gainful employment for getting in my way. I can’t even begin to tell you how disappointed I am in myself.
I am bloody well self employed. If you are self employed, then theoretically you are the boss. (Note that this is not true if you have small children. Then you are not master of your own days no matter who employs you. If you have little kids then the success or failure of your day hinges on the whims of beings who are very small and yet very powerful beyond their means… Sort of like skunks.) Sure, I have contracts and responsibilities and things have to keep moving or we shall starve to death and be homeless, but there is no boss who can make me do things. I am the boss. This means that I should be able to arrange December as a light month…right?
Well smack me with a waffle and call me stupid, because I arsed it up again. I thought I was being smart when I made my manuscript deadlines in the fall, but I forgot that the edits would come back to me now and all of a sudden my desk is covered and there’s a deadline for a page a day calendar (Right now it’s still on my desk. I would link to the Amazon Canada page, but my name is miss-spelled and I’m pretending I don’t care.) It’s not due until early January but I thought that was no biggie because I would finish it in early December so it wouldn’t screw up my Christmas knitting. Now my Christmas knitting and the calendar are not done because some total moron who ought to know better (that would totally be me) didn’t remember that the editing on the next book would come back now and…well. You know. It’s like that. I’m behind on the knitting and the Christmas baking and the present wrapping, but staying on top of the gainful employment. I can’t believe what an idiot I work for though. (That would be me again.)
All of this is a rather long way of saying “hey look…I have one and a part of a sock instead of a pair of socks.” Also…I think my cat (who refused to budge from her spot) looks rather disappointed with me. (STR Dixie Chick, mediumweight, my standard sock recipe.) The schedule claimed these should be finished this afternoon for me to stay on track, and they are not, nor will they be. I’m officially behind. I’d promise myself that I would co-ordinate better next year so I can avoid this, but I think that considering I promise myself that every year, it might be a lie.
Do you think the planet would notice if we all called in sick to work this time next year and took a week off to sit around in our jammies, drinking hot tea and knitting? I won’t tell if you won’t.