I threw myself into work yesterday and dug through piles of paperwork and correspondence with clients. I actually got caught up! I can be so damned efficient when I'm postponing grief.
I think the stress of not having things done was getting to be too much for me. I couldn't enjoy my rare spare time knowing that there was so much to do. I should hire a secretary.
I really felt the pull between motherhood and working: Mini-Me was being babysat in my home and I was working on the floor beneath. She would call me. When she came down the stairs at different points, she would run to me and ask to be held. Of course, I held her and I felt guilty for wondering why my babysitter wouldn't keep her entertained in her large nursery as I had requested: wanting to work and wanting not to want to work. At times, I really wanted to send the sitter home and just hold my baby some more.
I just knew that if I could plough through, things would be better for all of us. There would be more of me to give my family.
I spoke with Scully about my desire to take a month off to do nothing but write while I have childcare. He agreed that it would be a good idea. Unfortunately, that only leaves January since I'm already booking into December. A writing vacation! Well, it won't really be a vacation but I look forward to it with the same kind of enthusiasm normally reserved for such occasions.
I just discovered that my mother inadvertantly referred two clients to me today. They called for appointments and mentioned having spoken with my mother. My mother has it that she was talking about me to someone else, was overheard and that's how it happened.