Toots spilled water everywhere this morning and when I asked her to mop it up she said with disdain, “That’s grown-up business.”
Indeed it is. Grown-up business. Yesterday I signed an agreement that added 12 hours a week to my work schedule, which is already chock-full of 20 freelance hours and water mopping. Then, there’s the grocery shopping, half-assed cleaning, Internetting, and stay-at-home-momness. I’m also a wife, occasional lover, and writer in progress.
I don’t know why I did it. Other than I respect and like the woman I’ll be working with, who just started her company last year and has already taken it national.
I like her. I really do.
That could be good for me.
It’s work I’d enjoy.
Good, good, good.