Flex Time

Carving up the day

   I abandoned my office at three o’clock last Friday. I bought a couple of things at Mountain Equipment Co-op and then headed across the Champlain Bridge for a supper date with my daughter. “What should I write on The Mercenary Pen this week,” I asked her as we chilled in her apartment after our evening out. “Why don’t you write about how you used to walk me to school every day,” she suggested.

   One of the great pleasures of being a freelance writer is that, within certain limits, I can usually slip out of the house most any day if something or someone needs my attention. Don’t get me wrong though. This is a full-time gig. I have a full plate and many schedules to respect. However, to cite one of my favourite examples, if I want to pay proper homage to a sunny summer day with a bike ride by the river, I can.

   I can schedule a dentist appointment at ten-o’clock, take a noontime walk to the bank or shop for groceries in the afternoon; I do not have to join the Saturday pileups at the checkout counters. On the good neighbor front, I might be the only person on my street who does not noisily mow his lawn evenings and Sundays.

   As well, as my daughter reminded me, when she was small we walked to and from elementary school together every day – one of the great, years-long pleasures of my life.

   I pay a price for this freedom though, since most days require an honest effort at my desk. To balance the scales I usually log office time before breakfast. Many evenings I am at my desk just before bedtime taking care of office tasks (I save simple jobs for the dregs of the day). I usually work a few hours every weekend, like now, for instance, while this sunny afternoon passes without me.

   Once I finish debugging and posting this note I must incorporate some late-arriving information into two stubborn articles, polish and then email them to editors. I have to assimilate answers I received to some written questions before I interview a CEO tomorrow. I have images to post to a third editor’s ftp site.

   The traditional boundaries between home and office, week and weekend are blurry in my reality, but I would not dream of trading it for the working life “out there”.

Copyright © Carroll McCormick 2012

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