I Never Liked Homework

Working from home ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. You know?

The notion, that, as your own boss, no one is keeping tabs on you is soooo overrated. In fact, the freedom, the liberty, or whatever blissful name you call it, well, it’s just downright deceiving. A grand illusion, that’s what I call it.

Sure, I can come collect it. Freedom? Oh, yeah, freedom to over commit.

Well, I’ll just fit that in between this and that. Yes! I’m at liberty to squeeze in tasks.

Um, ok, I’ll do that while I do this. Right. Now I’m imaging I’ve cloned myself.

They say, "it's 5pm quitting time somewhere", and I say, "it's 9am starting time somewhere, and in that place is someone I can channel." Yeah, like who needs sleep, when there's work to be done?

And housework? Oh, it's there too.

If I walk down the hall one more time with that flint and fluff snickering in the corner, out comes the hoover. Really, how long can that take? Too long.

Or, as I feel the sun streaming through the windows, I look and quiz myself: how did I manage so many streaks—surely I can wipe a window better than that! What? A challenge? Here I come.

One glance in the girls’ room and I’m chasing another taunt. I mean, tangent. How sneaky and good would that be if, while they're in school, I sweep clean of toys outgrown? Too good.

Today I found myself calculating for when rented offices are a possibility in the budget.

Until then my choice of concentration--aka denial of the obvious--is the closed door. If you can’t see it, it can’t be added to the list.

Oh and Christmas decorations? Boxes were opened; garland and shining balls are protruding all sides. Still. Beyond the decorated tree, it’s as if Santa’s elves DH and the girls just lost interest. With each peek, I feel those boxes calling me. And yet, I admire and pine from afar.

When I’m done admiring, or more like, when my mind drifts to the next task, I close the door.