This morning, just before 9am, I heard a knock at my door and promptly ran upstairs.
You see, I was in boxer shorts covered in images of fur-lined, earflap hats and a tank top. I had not showered or even pulled my hair back after sleeping on it. Today was to be a day at home kind of day.
So after I jogged upstairs and donned a proper t-shirt, I met the tall man and his nice SUV outside on the back porch – a realtor – here with a home inspector. . . 3 days early.
But here’s where the joy of working for myself comes in . . . I asked for ten minutes – tidied the house, threw on some clothes, and loaded Meander in the truck. Now, we’re here at Bremo taking calls and planning to have lunch with my dad. Not a bad day at all.
The luxuries of working for myself are manifold, but the one I love most is the flexibility. I work a lot of hours but I work when and where I want . . . . like at the dining room table that where I grew up eating meals with my family.
The less desirable parts include sharing my pjs of choice with a man I’ve just met. It’s hard to make a handshake seem professional when you have earflap hats on your shorts.
Still, it’s a small price to pay . . .
What do you love about your job or where you work?