Back to the grind

I started something new last week. New, at least, in that I hadn't done it in over 5 years. I went back to work. 

Not full time, and not for lawyers. Never again for lawyers. 

I live in a small borough in Delaware County, Pennsylvania, small enough that I know the mayor and most of the people on council. I also know the New Borough manager because she used to be with the arts organization that ran our local craft shows.

About 6 weeks ago, I ran into her and the mayor at the farmers market, and they told me that there was a job opening as her administrative assistant. It's 3 hours a day, 5 days a week, and it's walking distance from my house. 

One of the things I've realized is that, despite my constant busyness, I got as much done when I was working full time. It's impossible to do creative work for an entire 8 hour day, and having flexibility, my creative brain dips in and out all day long. So this seemed like a really good idea. Even with the walk, it's only 4 hours out of the day, and it takes me near the post office and the market, should I have to run those errands anyway. 

And it's not so much money that it makes me greedy, but it's enough that it will take the pressure off the books to earn. Which, knowing how life works, will probably make the books more successful, just to prove some obscure point. 

Anyway, the photo is of my new place of employment. I've done one week so far, and as far as working outside my house is concerned, it's been lovely. The hardest thing is getting accustomed to a routine that isn't mine.

If I'm being honest

To work or not to work, that is the question.

Whether to suffer the slings and arrows of public transportation, annoying lawyers and crowds of people, or to stay home, in my happy place...

I got a call the other day from one of the offices where I've temped in the past. They're doing a bit of staff reorganization (where have I heard that before?) and need coverage during the period of disruption.

I said that I was still only willing to work three days per week, and they're fine with that, after the first week or two where they need some extra help.

I'm waiting to hear back regarding salary and hours - this preliminary call was just to confirm that I was still looking for part-time work - but now I'm reconsidering.

Do I want to go back into an office? I don't need to right now - and part of me would like to work from home, getting ready for craft show season and seeing how much I can get done on this new book.

I've never tried writing one flat-out because of interest before; it's always just been something I did because I enjoyed it. But now that the first book will be published in November, I need to think about a follow up. I'm never going to make a living exclusively from writing - the days of that happening are pretty much over unless you strike it REALLY lucky or are able to churn out a half dozen books a year.

But I also don't need much money. I figured out when I left full-time employment six years ago just how much I need to get by, and that was when I had a $1K per month mortgage. Life costs less now.

Plus, show season starts at the end of April, and my surgery is scheduled for May 1st. And somewhere in there I'll be dealing with the stucco contractor rebuilding the top portion of the chimney, and I'd really like to be around to supervise him. (Or get under his feet and annoy the crap out of him, if I'm being honest).

Roundup

Snowing today, so I'm wishing for spring

I found out last Friday that my three-day-per-week job was coming to an end. Someone retired recently and they decided to rearrange and combine jobs so that they would only have full-time employees. Unless I wanted full-time? I did not. Full time = overtime, and I most certainly did not want that.

So here I am. Gainfully unemployed at the moment, but I'm okay with it. I have other offices where I've temped regularly, and I'll reach out soon. Right now, I'm enjoying the luxury of being home for a few weeks.

Resting, you know. By starting to prepare for spring craft show season, by finishing some house projects that have been lingering (can you believe it's been a year since we moved?), by writing every day.

I'm waiting on notes from the publisher regarding their suggested edits to my book. Then I get to go through the manuscript and see if I agree with their suggestions, make the changes (if I agree) and defend my choices (if I do not). From the discussion I had with the editor, it doesn't sound like there will be much, but that remains to be seen. Also, one person's definition of "much" is another person's "how dare you say my child is ugly?" So, we'll see.

One of the things that I really like about this publishing co-op is that I have veto power over the cover design. Because there are some awful covers out there, and I'd prefer mine not be one of them. They commission a batch of designs, present them to me, and I can say if I like any of them, and if not, I can at least say what parts of them I liked, and then they do another round of designs. Hoping for good things.

Cats are in flux. When we lose one, it always seems that it takes a while for the rest to discover the new world order, even if it's exactly the same. Annie has been a bit of a bully to Harriet lately, and Nicky, for some strange reason, is being nice to me. I'll take it.

Currently working on a new writing project set during the Great Depression, because it's an era that has always intrigued me. Not a lot to show for it yet, but these things take time. Hopefully not as long a time as the previous one, which could be going to college if it was a person.

If you have any questions about the book project or the process it took for me to (finally) find a publisher, let me know!

Working. My Way.

So sometimes it feels like the universe is conspiring to get you to do a particular thing.  And if you're me, your first response is "nah."  You want me to do it, so not going to.  Even if it might be in my best interests.

Thankfully with maturity comes a speeding up of that process, where I go from "nah" to "maybe" to "well, this might actually be a good idea" in a much shorter time.

I was temping last week at one of the offices that I frequent, and one of the secretaries gave 3 weeks' notice.  Everyone immediately started joking that I would be back in 3 weeks to cover for her, and I went cold.  It's not that it isn't a nice enough firm; I've been in and out of there for 4 summers now, the people are fine and I can do the work, but (a) this girl's attorneys aren't among my favorites, (b) I really don't want to spend another solid summer there, working potentially 4-5 days a week because they're busy, and (c) they're just getting too used to me being their beck-and-call girl.

Cue the sound of rescue.  My phone buzzed and it was a text from my friend Dianne, at whose firm I have also temped (and we even worked there together back in the late 80s).  I've been back there several times on longterm assignments when her secretary was out on disability.  (Her secretary left over a year ago, but the firm rearranged staff and they weren't looking to hire then).  Well, her new secretary gave notice and did I want to work 3 days a week?

I texted back: "For how long?"

"Up to you," she responded.

I went in yesterday to spend a day with her current assistant just going over what things were new since my last visit (not many, other than an upgrade to the computer system).  They let me spend a day at the desk just poking around the system, learning the upgrades and setting up the computer the way it suited me.  I set up my voicemail and email messages, chose my desk location (the area with the most natural light) and got myself ready for next week, when I'll start doing M-W-F.

For how long?

Well, that's the issue.  Part of me really, really doesn't want to commit to even permanent part-time work, because, well, it feels like I'm giving in.  Going back to the grind.

But . . .

These people aren't a grind.  The work isn't that hard, and it's the kind of work I can do while planning out my sewing to do list as I type.  They buy my stuff.  They're flexible -- I can work whatever 3 days suits me, so if I have a weekend show, I can work Thursday instead of Friday.  I have sewing camps booked at my house this summer, and they're okay working around that.  The money is the best of all my temp jobs.

And there is that, the money.  The Etsy shops do okay (especially this past October-December with the crazy publicity from Babble and Scary Mommy).  Craft shows are even better.  But they're seasonal, they're uneven and often dependent on weather.  It would be nice to have a steady income which would be supplemented by the handmade business, so I could go back to putting money toward retirement.  I still have a good bit of savings, but I would like to feel a little more prepared.  I would also like to be able to consider vacations without having to do mental math that involved Peter, Paul and taking from both of them.

I decided I would give it a few weeks and think about it.  And then at lunch, I ran into one of the attorneys who works at my third temp job, the place that hires me every year between Thanksgiving and Christmas, and actually pays me to decorate their tree.  Apparently they're closing down shop at the end of the year and won't be needing my services.

So, job 1 - demand for more hours with less pleasant people; job 2 - disappearing.  Job 3 - pleasant people, good money, hours of my choice.

Not sure what there is left to decide, but I'm still thinking.

Resolutions. Sort of. Maybe.

City Hall - 2 weeks before Christmas.
Philly rarely looks this good.

I'm not big on making resolutions, mostly because it seems that the biggest challenge is getting them to last until my birthday at the end of the month.  If there's something I want to change, I start in when it occurs to me.

But here are a few general directions I want to go this year.  They aren't resolutions as such.  As follows, and in no particular order:

Be kind, but take no shit.  My biggest flaw is impatience, so I'm going to try to cut the world (and therefore myself) a break and not expect them to do my bidding -- or read my mind -- straight off the bat.  On the other hand, I have never suffered fools gladly and I'm going to call people on their crap a lot sooner, for all our sakes.

Be more of a pain in the ass.  This follows close on Be kind, but take no shit.  Because of temping and being busy with my business for the holidays, I haven't been able to be as involved as I'd like.  As of this week, I'll be joining in "Tuesdays with Toomey", which is a group of community members who visits our senator's office each week, attempting (in vain, thus far) to actually get the senator to meet with us, or even listen.  This is a man who has asked that federal funds be withheld from Philadelphia -- from his own constituents! -- because he doesn't like our status as a sanctuary city.  I may not have voted for you, dude, but you're still my senator, and you have to at least listen to me.

Keep focused on my business.  Things went well this year.  I'm doing end of year numbers and while my income didn't really increase much from 2015, I feel like I've gotten things more streamlined and under control, and now that I have a better idea of what works and what doesn't, it will be easier for me in the future to improve that.  The blog coverage this year that got me a lot of custom sales was a fluke, a lucky one, but it's taught me that pushing custom items in the shop is really the way to go.  I'll need a lot of ready-made inventory for shows, but custom work is also something that gets a lot of discussion in person, so I need to be ready.

Tech less, smile more.  I never wanted a smartphone, but I had to get one for craft shows so I could take credit cards.  It's also useful for monitoring Etsy when I'm not near my computer, answering questions from potential customers, and posting to Facebook and Instagram.  But enough already.  I make fun of the zombie apocalypse type all the time, and I don't want to become one of them.  Phone time will be of necessity and not for recreation.  If I have people around me, I'll talk to them.  If I don't, I'll do what my mom used to tell me to do when I was bored, "Shut up and make something."  She wasn't always right, but that's always been good advice.

Move.  The exercise resolution.  It doesn't have to be any one thing, and it probably shouldn't be, because if I get bored, I won't do it.  I'm not looking to suddenly have the body I never had as a 20 year old, but sitting at either a desk or a sewing machine is wreaking havoc on my ass (and also my back).  Since I run to the post office 2-3 times per week, and my local post office is near the cemetery, every post office run will now include 2 circuits around the cemetery.  I live in a house with a lot of stairs, and even though I try to be efficient and do as few trips up and down as possible, I may just stop being so efficient if the tradeoff is being more active.

More quality time with Mario.  Certainly  not end of the list, but least well-defined.  We spend time together, but the quality varies.  Less TV, less technology, more outdoor time, more joint projects.  If we both decided at a relatively late age that we wanted to get married and be together, we should actually do more together things.  For anyone reading anything into this, don't.  Things are fine, we're happy, our anniversary is coming up mid-month, but marriage, or any relationship, is always a work in progress and we're always in the process of figuring out how to make good better.

Assembly Line

Some things I make one at a time, but most of the things I make these days, I try to organize myself so that I can do them assembly-line style, knocking out as many as I can at one shot.

My recycled sweater owls were a big seller last year, and every time I've used a sweater to make a larger project I've thrown the scraps into a bag.  Post-Christmas I finally dug into that full-sized trash bag and cut up all those scraps into various owl parts.  Well, not that many parts -- fronts and backs and two wings.  The eyes, beak and feet are all made from felt, because (a) my sanity and (b) I ran out of the one good yellow sweater that I ever found.

There are still more wings left in ziploc bags, but this mess here on my dining room table constitutes all the bodies I cut, with matching (or clashing) wings pinned on.  After this was taken, they were sorted into piles by what color thread I will use to attach the wings (there are now about 5 smaller piles) and today I'll start stitching.  Once the wings are on, I can do the detail work.  I can't sew backs to fronts until my new tags arrive, but that, and stuffing, are the least of the work here.

This is 60 owls.  Since I still need to make many more larger sweater animals, I'm hoping to get at least another 40 completed before craft show season starts again in the spring.

I'm not afraid to use it.

What my head should feel like

My summer temp job is nearly over, and not before time.  School (and therefore sewing classes) start up next week, and my busy season is fast approaching.

But more than that, it's time to go.  I've been there since early June, plus a few weeks in March to cover a disability leave, and even though last year's stint was longer, I'm really feeling it this time around.

I've been reminded -- more than once -- why I don't do this full time anymore, and the people, while nice for the most part, are now officially in my head more frequently than casual work acquaintances should be.  I guess after 4 summers they've become "real" enough to do that, but honestly, one of the things I enjoy most about working from home is not being surrounded all the time.  I like quiet, I like being drama-free, I like just not having all these extra stories circling around me.  If I want stories, I'll make up my own.

If that makes me sound bitchy, that's not how I mean it.  The inside of my brain feels like Times Square on New Year's Eve, and I need to get back to a place of quiet where I can hear myself think -- and get more work done.

When I said yesterday afternoon that I only had four more days left, one of the other secretaries said, "Don't jinx yourself.  Maybe someone else will quit and they'll ask  you to stay."

"There's one problem with that," I answered.  "There's this little, two-letter word.  No."

And I'm not afraid to use it.