The eye passes over…

As recently whined about, the Crazy around here got to a level where I was starting to wonder if perhaps a little happy juicy medication was in order.

Because, gracious knows, I don’t have enough chemicals in my body at any given time.

I’m in the eye of the storm at the moment. Strange, eerie calm. That place where you dare to look up, to see just how bad the destruction has already been, to think about a mad dash for a safer hidey hole, to ask yourself if you are insured for this precise manner of storm and also, did I leave the gas on in the kitchen? Then, just when you’re saying that things aren’t really all THAT bad and perhaps it’s just going to blow over and maybe it’s actually already all done and perhaps I ought to poke my head up and see if the fence survived…the thought hits you: The worst damage usually comes in the second half!

Comforting thought, huh?

So. What all has got me all riled up?

First and most of all, there’s this. I’ve been working on a book-as-such, which has been an astonishing journey into the minute I have a deadline, I suffer immediate and crippling writer’s block and would rather play my video game for 46 hours STRAIGHT.

But my editor (eeee! I can haz editor!) has already given me some really good feedback on my first draft and promises a little more guidance, so there is hope that it will actually a) happen and b) not suck.

Which of course means I need to get back to being busy on it. Ahem. Yes. Welllllll…in other news…

I’ve been looking at a variety of schemes opportunities suitable for someone who both wants and could really use a paycheck, but has Certain Conditions (cough-*horde-o-kids*-cough) which make it very difficult to commit to showing up every day at a certain time, and staying until a certain time in the evening. Because let’s face it, I’m not going to be able to do that for the foreseeable future. Been there, done that, got in trouble for excessive sick days.

So, yes, I need freelance work. A term which here means, “Work I can do on my own terms when I’ve got a minute, work that does not have day-to-day deliverables but a flat ‘due by’ date preferably with a weekend between receipt and delivery…and we must have a clear understanding that I may be rather difficult to reach especially during the afternoon hours and that any conversations we have may have so much tumult in the background that you will suspect I am at the tables in Vegas, when in fact it just my charming offspring bouncing and jiving and demanding cookies and milk, because, well, they do that.”

As unlikely as it seems, I have some nibbles. Enough of them that I am in that wonderfully awkward position of having to decide which line(s) to tug, because I can’t possibly tug all of them and remain anything resembling sane. Each thing is different from the other; some are completely unrelated, some could be kissing cousins, each one has its own benefits and drawbacks. Some make a ton of money but require a ton of time, others make just a little bit but can be done on ‘whenever’ minutes.

Also, I’m trying to decide whether I want to go W2, 1099, or sole proprietorship. Employee, Independent, or Business Owner? Again, benefits and drawbacks to each one. Some are less flexible, some are more profitable, balancing headaches with tax breaks and accountability with deniability. “I have no memory of the meeting of which you speak, sir…”

Sigh. Sometimes, I really wish I could just be like everybody else about money and opportunities, and spend both as fast as I get them (possibly a little faster) and not have to think so @^*&@ing much.

As the dust is beginning to settle and things are becoming clear (which means that I’m about to jump up and bring on the second half of the storm by implementing Changes to the Status Quo), spring is working its Wicked Wiles upon us.

My charming daughters have all developed a life-threatening homework allergy. Seriously. If they are made to do homework? They might D-I-E, die! It is only because I never did actually love them, and don’t care about their happiness, and am otherwise a really bad person that I force them to continue risking their short existences by insisting – nay, demanding! – that the homework continue to be done. Which I am doing because all three teachers approached me this week saying, “Um…she didn’t turn in her homework last week? Or this week? Hello?”

Hell hath no fury like a mother embarrassed. So I’m riding them like crazy until we get through the rest of this school year. If I’ve gotta work, you’ve gotta work.

Meanwhile, it’s IEP (Individual Education Program) season! Yes, that’s right, it’s time for me to start attending whackity-majillion meetings at which Highly Educated People will tell me that they have absolutely no idea why my son, who turns four in July, communicates at roughly a twelve to eighteen month level!

It’s so nice to know that the people with the impressive titles after their names are likewise bemused. It makes me feel less stupid. Or at least, I wish it did.

The feeling of waiting continues. Even as I’m running from fire to fire, stomping and stomping and stomping for all I’m worth, the helpless sensation of just having to wait it all out sits on me like a hair shirt.

And speaking of waiting…there’s a kid sitting at the school doing so right now. Time to start practicing my pickup speech: “Do you have homework? How much homework? Is it due tomorrow? Have you started it already?”

La-la-la-la-la-la-laaaaa! Ho-ho-ho-ho-home-wooooorrrrrrrrkkkkkk…!

Addendum: Eldest came home with an assignment to write a Three {ugh} Hundred {groan!} Word {eh-heh, eh-heh} Essssssssss{gasp}ay {gaaaaaaaaak}! Her wake will be held on the afternoon of April 27...