Before I became a freelancer I had some lovely misconceptions about how my day would go. In my dreams it involved me leisurely getting out of bed, making a healthy breakfast for everyone, skipping the children to school before I retired to the coffee shop to work. All the time sipping on a flat white and nibbling on a croissant. Then I skip back to school, ferry the children back home, we chat and laugh and I effortlessly throw together a healthy meal. This is not how it is happening. This is not my reality.
Balls! I have overslept. I should have got up at least an hour ago to do some work or exercise. I open emails on my phone. So many emails. Promptly close emails and make promise to self to clear out 168 emails later. I open WhatsApp. Three unread messages, but then group messages have now reached 310 unread messages. Makes another mental note to read them later too. Instead, prioritises time doing important things like looking through Instagram and Facebook. Mr C now gets up as I reply to messages on Instagram before getting lost in Instastories. Mr C is now dressed and I promise to get up ASAP after I have had a very quick but absolutely essential look on Facebook. Mr C goes down to make his breakfast. I now find myself getting sucked into a world of cute cat videos. Half-an-hour later I hear Mr C coming up the stairs. I swear and quickly throw my clothes on, pretending that I have already had a shower. I think he knows that I haven’t been up for long. Could be the bird’s nest hair giving it away.
Coax and bribe children out of bed. Curse self when I realise that Youngest has stained her school uniform with paint. Try and find another school dress but get lost in their wardrobe. I suspect that behind the millions of fancy dress clothes is a lamp post and a talking lion. Usher children downstairs. Throw healthy breakfast their way – cereal. Finish making healthy lunch boxes. Remember that I was supposed to go to the shop to replenish healthy snack supply. Smuggle fairy cake into lunchbox. Tell Oldest to tell teacher it is a flourless, sugarless, butterless, joyless and homemade cake if questioned.
As children distracted by food I take ten minutes to throw food down gullet. Start to reply to some emails before giving-up.
Ask children to put their shoes on.
8:05 – ask children again to put their shoes on.
8:10 – order children to put their shoes on.
8:15 – wrestle Youngest to floor to put shoes on.
Check Oldest has her shoes on, that we have all school bags and books. Leave house. Turn around and go back into house to put my shoes on.
Spend 30 mins sat in traffic cursing traffic and narrow roads, cars and life choices in general.
Run faster than Usain Bolt into school. Dump children into relevant classrooms. Try to make escape but find myself cornered by teacher asking if I can help on school trip. Try to explain that I have lots of work on before agreeing to help and making mental note to get up at 4am on that day.
Return home. Look at deadlines for the day and inwardly groan. 4 articles about funerals and 1 about retirement is going to make for a somewhat depressing morning. Think about making a coffee but realise I have to crack on.
Take a toilet break and realise that I need to empty the washing machine. Unload washing machine and put clothes away.
I am now running behind on my deadlines but the dishwasher now needs emptying. I frantically type another article before stopping to unload dishwasher.
I now realise that I am expert on everything Will based and realise that I need to sort a Will out. Find myself googling local lawyers in Jersey before I realise that I have become distracted again.
My eyes are starting to swim in front of me so I put on my sunglasses. I forget that I am wearing these when I answer my front door to the postman. He looks at me like I am mad. I quite possibly am.
I should now take a break, eat some lunch, go for a run but I don’t have time so I carry on.
I start replying to the billion emails in my inbox before I give-up, select all and delete all. I then chase outstanding invoices, I find myself channelling Tom Cruise, “show me the money” I shout. Then I whisper, “or just send me a little bit please”. I stand-up and do some stretches to try and wake myself up.
I need to take photos for my blog. Set up table and curse the fact that it is dark outside and therefore dark inside the house. I spend ages making a flat-lay out of Barratt Sweets and a creepy crawly cupcake before I find myself questioning whether I have lost the plot and if this is a good use of my degree.
Realise that I need to dash back to school. Arrive in the school car park to find all spaces already taken, two parents fighting over lack of spaces and it is starting to rain. Drive up hill and park in other car park. I am now late.
Pick up Youngest. I now have 15 minutes to wait for Oldest. I ignore phone pinging in my coat pocket. Keep losing Youngest to then see her climbing up something in the distance.
Wonder why Oldest is not out yet and where have all the other parents for Oldest’s class gone? Remember it’s ’Look Book’. Swear inwardly and drag Youngest kicking and screaming off the playground and into school. Spend 15 minutes looking at Oldest’s insanely neat books. Find myself wondering who she takes after. Not me nor her father. Mr C writes like a spider has been dragged across the page.
Arrive home. Help children with homework. Share great conversation about how their day was. Rewarded with in-depth answers like “fine” and “I don’t know”.
Next set of deadlines arrive in inbox ready for tomorrow. Look at deadlines and inwardly curse again. Start making notes as the children play/kill each other.
Remember that I haven’t got anything out of the freezer for dinner. Send message to Mr C asking him to pick-up food.
Mr C arrives home. I am still researching tomorrow’s articles.
Cook dinner together. Sit as a family and we have a lovely conversation about day, i.e. more “fine” and “I don’t know”
Mr C starts to get the children ready for bed as I start other freelance work.
Stop work for quick Instagram scroll and Facebook perusal.
I am still on Facebook. Take laptop to bed and continue to work. I check inbox and realise that since mass deletion I now have another 56 emails in there. I have also forgotten to check WhatsApp.
Just as I drop off I hear my phone ping which reminds me that I still haven’t had a shower….Lights out. Fast asleep. Wake-up and repeat.
Yep, not quite the stuff of my dreams but at least I can always work in my pjs!