It's not so ridiculous

I laughed until my eyes leaked at this story about a Spanish chap who didn't show up to work for six years - and no-one even noticed (click here to read).

It's not pushing the credibility dinghy out too far to say that at some of the contracts I've previously worked, this is an entirely feasible scenario.

Vis-a vis work, today's visual is of the best co-worker in the history of co-workers, Bristol the Wonderdog.

   

A Very Good Day

There was the offer of some work I really, really want to do and a story commission from a national magazine that I've previously scribbled for but which is a notoriously tough nut to crack, So yay for that.

And, joy of joys, there was the news that I never, ever get - dosh back from the tax man. Regular readers will know what a bone of contention provisional tax is and how I weep buckets when I have to transfer large sums of cash to the crown every few months. It's a lovely, if slightly surreal, feeling to get some back, given my last rebate was back in the late 90s. Sometimes there is a God.

But there's no time for celebrating - I've just had two urgent pieces of work come in that have to be finished by Monday. Bang goes my weekend. But such is the life of a freelancer.

Today's visuals are of the furry beings that make the world go round.

Happy weekend, y'all.

(Pic Credit: Tumblr)
         

Home

In the last day or so, I crossed eight time zones, ate six meals, chatted to a famous chef and a member of the Paris Orchestra, broke my rule about not drinking in the air with several glasses of bubbly and flirted with insomnia and its first cousins, madness and irritability.

But I am home, and it was unbelievably good to be greeted by a lovely clean house, fresh flowers (the Animator did well) and this adorable face. I have been fortunate enough to travel to lots and lots of places, and even live in some, but none are as good as this joint.

Also, don't let anyone tell you that travelling in the pointy end of the plane makes you immune from jetlag. I am shattered and tempted to curl up in the patch of sunshine coming through the French windows and go to sleep. But there are two loads of washing to be done, a mountain of ironing, invoices and emails to be sent and big-ass lists to be complied detailing which stories from this trip need to be written and by when. A few other commissions have come in whilst I've been away so they also need to find a home in the work schedule.

Tomorrow it is back to the part-time contract and a few big projects there. Sometimes it's easier to keep going rather than thinking about what's ahead....

Flowers

It has been a long, long day and I have run out of words. I am now hunting down the back of the sofa to see if there are any hiding there.

There were five, count them, FIVE phone interviews for various corporate and glossy publications which reached across the gloriously messy spectrum of human experience - from an 18-year-old mechanic in Gore to a glitzy architect in Auckland and a minister in Hamilton. My hand is cramped and my brain feels like boiled marmalade and I desperately need to find the Off Switch.

And then the doorbell rang and a courier appeared out of the dripping rain with this gorgy bunch of flowers. From a lovely woman who I profiled in today's Travel Talk in the DomPost (haven't got the clipping yet so will feature it tomorrow). It was such an unexpected surprise but just want I needed. And, after the odd behaviour of certain folk over the past few days, it helped restore my faith in human kind.

Tonight I shall pull on my wet weather gear for a trot with the running group (is there anything worse than running in waterlogged trainers?) which, admittedly, does not transport me to the Valley of Happiness, but it has to be done.

At least I will come home to these glorious blooms from the ever glorious Catherine.

    

       

A weekend of toil

About 1,400 words have been written so far and, at the half-way point of Sunday, there are still about 1,000 to go. I am now officially sick of the sight of my laptop. #Firstworldproblems

There was, however, time for a walk with Rachel and her lovely dog Peggy Sue, who Bristol adores. And the televisual brilliance of this series.

If you haven't already seen it, this clip is a nice time waster. It features 20 strangers who were asked to kiss on camera for the first time and is super sweet...

My brain is about to explode

This morning I kept company with three very nice architects as they walked me through their amazing renovation of an historic building (once a department store, now the funky HQ of an energy company).

I have spent large chunks of the afternoon trying to turn phrases such as 'linear structures that provide for greater social convergence' and 'spatial experiences' into plain English. My brain now feels like boiled marmalade.

Worse still, Wednesday night's running group embarked on a longer than usual trot and my left knee is now hurting like buggery. If I have to limp around HK next week, I will not be best pleased.

Today's visuals are, what else, but cute canines.

Have a lovely weekend y'all and while you're out having a good time, think of me strapped to the lap top trying to make sense of architectural jargon...

(Pic credit: Tumblr)

Going backwards

Today I started back at a previous contract I left almost a year ago. A wise old friend warned me against it, suggested that one shouldn't go backwards.

As with most things in life, it turned out to be okay. There is a shit-tonne of reading, writing and strategising to do (more than I expected) and, of course, it all has to be done by yesterday. But the hourly rate is good and it's only two days a week (the other three are taken up with the copywriting gig I've been at for the last seven months) and it's only for a month or so. Best of all, I can do the bulk of it from home.

In the meantime, all my other freelance stuff will grow mould waiting for me to get to it, but oh well.

A friend sent me the following quote today; it's a timely reminder not just to run from one contract to another, or from one workplace to another, but to grab what I'm doing and squeeze the bejesus out of it.      

"I began to realize how important it was to be an enthusiast in life. [He taught me that] if you are interested in something, no matter what it is, go at it at full speed ahead. Embrace it with both arms, hug it, love it and above all become passionate about it. Lukewarm is no good. Hot is no good either. White hot and passionate is the only thing to be."

Roald Dahl

One thing I am passionate about is the running group; this week I've signed up for two events - tonight and Saturday. Let the fat begone...

Today's visuals are of something else I'm truly, desperately passionate about - the furry love of my life.

   

Weekend work

Another weekend spent galloping over the "too much to do and not enough time to do it" prairies.

There was an early start today, for an interview with the lovely owner of this Khandallah house for Your Home & Garden Magazine. Amongst the grocery shopping, cleaning and two loads of washing (the only downside of having house guests), there was also a furious pounding of the keyboard to deliver the three commissions I need to finish this weekend.

Red wine o'clock cannot come too soon today...

(Pic credit: Meg McMillan, www.teapea.co.nz)