Three-day weekends are always a treat. Even if I have to catch up on some work, there is a day of no phone calls and no appointments. This three-day weekend turned out a little differently.
Heart in the desert.
When you own the business, you don’t want to give up too many opportunities. You don’t know when the next one will be along. As all of you promised, when I fired the client last week, something else would fill the space.
It was wrapped in bad news, too. I almost missed it. But I am the eternal optimist. Standing in a stable full of horse poop, I am always happy to start shoveling because I believe there is a unicorn in there someplace.
There may well be. But I had to write a 50-page workbook for a class. In a hurry. It’s due today. So, no weekend. I made the decision, I stuck with it, but now I want my weekend, too. Sorry, no whining.
The hard part in this, as it always is when it’s your choice, is that it is your choice.
No one else to blame. No one else to grumble at. I chose to spend the weekend on my butt in front of a keyboard with no guarantees.
Still, I want to believe all of you were right. This will work, and the universe will tilt toward moral justice. (There’s a lot of the story untold, and it will stay that way.)
Another of my inner heroes is the Little Red Hen. She did the work. No one helped. And then, when it came time, she reaped the benefits. Too early to tell yet, but for all that I missed this weekend, I’d take the gamble again.
So, Little Red Hen or unicorn in the horse poop, we’ll see how it plays out. Now if only I can remember that it’s Tuesday and not Monday.
––Quinn McDonald is a writer who teaches writing. A lot more of it, and soon, she hopes.
Maybe the stable belongs to a unicorn and when it’s cleaned out it will return . . . I’ve got my fingers crossed for a pegasus though!
that would be nice. And I can imagine he’ll have a saddle, all ready to go. And I can imagine I’ll know how to ride, too. Which, at the moment, I do not. Details.
Who would need a saddle? Not us!
[Snort] Of course!
Argh! I meant to say HUMOR! Note to self…no typing till after second cup of coffee! Kat
Dear Quinn…buried under the poo in the stable and trying to dig my way out too! If I see that damn unicorn, I will tell it we both have been looking for him! Your blog is always a bright point in my otherwise hum drum emails, and I remain grateful for you hilarious outlook on life. It has been a rough week and weekend, but this morning has started with a grin…courtesy of your unique sense of honor! Thank you for putting some laughter back in my week!!! You’re the best! Katherine from az art.
Actually, I like the sense of honor even better. A sense of honor justifies my sense of humor! More coffee all the way around, please.
I bought your book, I am excited to read it! Don’t forget that you love your work. You can sleep when you’re 65!
I’m excited you bought the book! Thanks! Sometimes the work just needs to get done. Luckily, I can hit the percales early tonight. I do love my work, but not all of it, all the time. And that’s fine, too. It makes me more grateful when I know it’s going well.
The little red hen is one of my heroes. I have a tendency to do all the work and let others reap the rewards. I’m working on it and that chicken story is a constant reminder to me.
Keep us posted about the outcome (as much as you can) – I admire your discipline SO much. Ilsa
Thanks. I must admit, between my mom and the nuns at the school I went to, self-discipline was writ large. Your life belonged to others through obligation, doing your duty, and having others think well of you. It’s not always the best thing (I’m exhausted and have no idea if it will pay off), but at least I can count on it.
I’ve always suspected that anybody telling people things like “your life belongs to others” probably has a fairly clear title to their own life.
Yes. In general, people that give strong, over-reaching advice are glad they do not have to take a slice of it themselves.