Day One

There was a lot of doubt, cynicism, secrecy, but ultimately hard work that got me to this day, the day I call Day One. Here's a great example of all of those things rolled into one conversation earlier this week in meeting a new doctor for my migraines. 

I have no idea why my new doctor asked me what I did for a living, as I've been pretty smashed up since the accident he's currently treating me for, but he did. More confusing to me was his use of present tense. 

He didn't ask, "What did you used to do?"

"What do you do?" he asked sincerely. 

It was as if I was seeing him on my lunch break. I most decidedly was not.

I answered: "I have this thing. I guess. I used to write. Freelance writing. But. It's been about five months. And I've sent my client an email two weeks ago. And I guess I was rehired. I don't know. I'm supposed to check in tomorrow. I'm supposed to have projects waiting for me. So."

He paused as if he was deciding whether to say something or not. 

"You write," he said kindly but emphatically. "Does a singer worry about singing? Or does a singer always sing? So you are a writer."

"Okay," I replied. "I'm an unemployed writer." 

That was as far as I'd concede.

Well, today was my first day back on the job as a marketing writer. This consists of working from home, which can either be a dream or a nightmare. Despite my desire to overthink everything, I didn't go into the day with much of a plan. I was up at 6:30 a.m., took the kid to the bus stop at 7 a.m., he was gone by 7:15 a.m., and I was working with my first cup of coffee at 7:30 a.m., as if someone was forcing me to clock in. I drank coffee and worked steadily for a solid five hours. And, making my own time, I'd accomplished all I could with the project for the day. Great!

Here's where I lose some points, though. This meant that I was still in my bed and in my pajamas past noon. I decided to rectify that problem by treating myself to a little TV time. I'd been wanting to watch Bird Box before the spoilers. I'm not much for horror films, but I figured it was in the middle of the day. In one of the most bizarre reviews from a friend, she'd said, "It's a horror movie for people who don't like horror movies." You know who it's not for? People who are deathly afraid of any kind of horror movies, watching alone in their pjs in the middle of the day, who have somewhere to be practically at the movie's end. 

More points lost. And even more as I blew up my friend's phone to help me manage my 15 minutes to spare in getting ready for an appointment. Still in pjs, still unwashed, now terrified to leave the house because, well, the things would get me. No answer. Nearly in tears, I brushed my teeth and threw on an ensemble I'd best describe as Whore Pirate. No shower, no makeup, no deodorant. 

The best thing to cure me from watching that horror movie was to quickly make my life a real horror movie. Except it was called Please God, Don't Let Me Run Into Anyone Today. That prayer was quickly dashed with the sudden realization that because of time constraints, I had to take my look to my kid's after-school program. It looked very much like a walk of shame, except those are prefaced with "the morning after" for a good reason. By 5:30 p.m., morning was a distant memory, and this look was just utter confusion. And since no one knew what to say, no one said anything, especially me. 

I decided to cut myself some slack, major slack, and graded Day One as a B-. I might have maintained that had I just nodded off to sleep at a reasonable hour, 9:30 p.m. at latest. Instead, I decided to invest heavily into my first foray into Reddit. Like, first ever, really. I've had months and months of downtime, but I didn't want to fall into that degree of laziness. But to end Day One, I logged a good two hours. 

Once I put my phone upside down to stop the Reddit time suck, I took to this blog to brag about my day. I'm writing this with less than a half-hour left to spare of the day. I'm exhausted. This post has made zero sense. And if there was another person reading this, there'd be a cocked eyebrow as to the claim that I write professionally.

I'm knocking my grade down to a D+ now and with a wrap across the knuckles with a wooden ruler. Well, there's only 15 minutes left until Day Two.