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Does Angelina Jolie plunge her own toliet? At three A. M. if the toliet misbehaves does she grab a plunger, or does she have a button to push that wakens some employee at any time day or night to do all those little domestic chores? I was comptemplanting this at dawn when I had no button to push, or help to summon.
Even if I had staff that slept in the house over night, would I really call them into our private rooms at dawn to plunge a toliet? I think not. I think I’d be embarrassed to be that helpless, or that uncaring of the other person’s sleep. Maybe it comes from being raised below the poverty level, but I just don’t think I could push that magic button, even if I had one.
Once upon a time I had two extra staff members. They did errands, and personal shopped for me. Errands, including dry cleaning, groceries, office supplies, that sort of thing. It helped a great deal, at first. Then, gradually I realized that I was a good boss, but a bad manager. I’m a writer, which means at heart I’m solitary and never, in my wildest dreams, thought I’d have a staff to manage. It’s not my style. But suddenly the level of work needed more support staff than Jon and I could manage just us. So we added, and it worked, for awhile. It worked for over a year, then finally I had to admit that the extra staff was causing me extra work. They kept wanting me to decide things. For groceries I needed to know what we were having for dinner, and breakfast. (Jon cooks, but I make out the menus. It’s our division of labor.) The question always seemed to come just as the writing was going well, or they’d waited all day and I had worked all day, and I wasn’t able to tell him, or her, what to buy. So, Jon had nothing to fix for dinner that night. When you’re single, or just a couple this is workable, add a child and it is not.
The personal shopping, was either brilliant, or not even close. That, too, was partially my lack of clear direction to them. I found that many hands did not make light work, in fact, these staff members, who were also friends, kept needing me to manage them, and I did not have the time, skill, or patience for it. So, now we’re down to a smaller staff, and it’s oddly working more smoothly in some ways, in other ways it’s not.
I took over most of the grocery shopping in the last few weeks. If I’m planning the menu it helps for me to look and touch and even smell the food. Planning a meal is almost like the food talks to you in the store, tells you what will work. If I can’t see the food, well, I’ve had more than one phonecall with staff about what they are looking at in the store, and is this what I want? Sometimes that works; sometimes you need to squeeze the tomatoe yourself.
Having taken most of the grocery shopping over again put me back on regaining control of my eating and my weight. This was before Jon and I joined Jenny Craig. By the by, since we’ve joined Jenny I am down that last two pounds to my first goal weight. I’m five pounds out from the last big weight loss I managed to achieve and keep, and I’m hopeful that with help I’ll be able to surpass that. Jon, too. As a boy, he looses weight faster than I do. My point; just by taking back the groceries I began to get both of us healthier.
I’ve never had a nanny. When Trinity was very little I didn’t have the money for one. When I got money, and she was still little enough to make it helpful, I chose not to. My kid, so I want my imput and my husband’s to be the major input, not some, I’m sure, very nice nanny. Not a judgement call, just my choice. Interestingly, as she gets older and I need less help, I have more. Jon’s Mom and stepdad love doing the Grandma and Grandpa routine. If I’d had this much family support when Trinity was a toddler she’d probably have a sibling.
When you get to a certain level of success, to maintain it, you begin to give pieces of your life away. I’ve taken a lot of those pieces back in the last year, because it didn’t seem to be working. But, yesterday made me remember what sent me looking for more help in the first place.
I shopped for groceries. I did breakfast, lunch, and dinner, for all of us. I went to the video store and got us a movie for the whole family, NIM’S ISLAND. We all loved it by the way. Jon is still on the injured list, and will be until after his knee operation, then six weeks of crutches. So, in effect I’ve lost my chief. Thank God, we’re doing the Jenny Craig food. Most of the cooking is microwave, and the menu is planned out with very little deviation. One less decision for me; yea!
I did errands, because we do not have weekend staff. Weekends are family time, which means they’re families, not mine. Trinity went with me for the errands, so we did get some mother/daughter bonding time. That was great.
But at the end of the day here’s what I didn’t get done. I did not get to exercise. I did not get a shower. I did not get a single page done on the new book. I did not get a blog done. I did some work on the comic, but that’s because if I don’t do my job then other people can’t do theirs. I try, very hard, not to be a bottle neck in any of my jobs. Jon felt well enough to give a few opinions, then the pain killers started wearing off. Is it just me or do red-head’s look really fragile when they’re in pain?
Now, some of you may say, take the weekend off. It’s Saturday, don’t sweat it. Normally, not a bad idea, except . . . Friday I had my Oh-Ma-God moment. What does that mean?
It means that SWALLOWING DARKNESS is now completely off my desk, so I can turn all my attention to the next Anita book (hopefully we’ll have a title next week). I’m over four hundred pages in, and I was feeling pretty good about it. Until I looked at my deadline. December. That’s cool, I just needed to add up a page count, see where I was in the plot, and how much more to go. I may not always know the plot point by point, but I have a feel for the size and rythmn of a book by the time I’m this far into it. So, I sit down look at where I am, and realize, oh, I have about six hundred more pages to go. Yeah, you read that right, I fear, I really do, that this is going to be a thousand page book. I love Edward, and I hate him, because every time I add him to a book in a major way, it gets longer. I did the page count math and found that I need six pages a day, every day, from now until the end of December to even make a rough draft. That’s not revisions. That’s just sending the book raw and bleeding from the computer, straight to my editor. I began to panic.
This morning, as I type this, I am again realizing that to keep up the output that is needed for what I do; books, comics, and other projects, I am going to have to find ways to delegate more of my life to others. Or, have a nervous breakdown. That is always an option.
So, I rose at dawn on the idea that I would do pages, exercise, and eventually get that bubble bath I’ve been dreaming of, and instead of getting a jump on the day, my day jumped me. I eventually subdued the plumbing, but it meant that my early start wasn’t so early, and definitely not so relaxing. It meant that instead of getting a few pages, or a trip on the treadmill before the kiddo rose for the day, I was still taking care of the dogs when she came downstairs with her favorite Bionicle book in her hand. Oh, wait, breakfast.
This is definitely one of those mornings when I fantasize, not about a bevy of handsome men, but about a little silver bell that I could ring and servants would appear out of the woodwork to help make my life run more smoothly, and allow me to actually go to my office and do my job. Okay, a bevy of handsome men that could cook, clean, and help organize my life, that would be good. But girl, or guy, I’m not sexist; I just need help. Admitting you need help is the first step to getting it, or so they say. I will leave you with this thought, “AAAAHHHHHH!” Now, to finish breakfast, then take the dogs out one more time, then I’m hitting the treadmill before I hit the office. It will save fictional lives if I exercise first.