Working alone is so weird
Working alone is so weird. For example, today, after I sent off a job I’ve been working on for weeks, I crossed it off my “To Do” list and then wrote, “Yeay, Keash!!!” Well, somebody has to give me a pat on the back once in awhile; it may as well be me.
Working alone can also be dangerous. As I just said in an email to my friend, Ken, a designer who recently started freelancing:
“One hazard of working at home, alone: If you’re eating a piece of leftover steak for lunch and you suddenly choke on it, you have to give yourself the Heimlich maneuver. I actually had to do that yesterday! My first thought: I can't let Art come home and find me dead on the floor—I couldn’t bear to have him tell my children that’s how I died!”
Thank god, the Heimlich worked. Otherwise, I’d be forever remembered like Elvis, you know, people always picturing him sitting on the john trying to you-know-what. Only in my case, they'd picture me gagging in a very unprofessional manner.
Another thing about working alone—when someone knocks on the door, it always freaks me out. I immediately pick up the phone and dial 91, so that I can continue dialing 911 if the person turns out to be a serial killer. At least, that way I can let someone know I’ve been murdered.
See what I mean about working alone? Sometimes it’s just weird as hell.
Working alone can also be dangerous. As I just said in an email to my friend, Ken, a designer who recently started freelancing:
“One hazard of working at home, alone: If you’re eating a piece of leftover steak for lunch and you suddenly choke on it, you have to give yourself the Heimlich maneuver. I actually had to do that yesterday! My first thought: I can't let Art come home and find me dead on the floor—I couldn’t bear to have him tell my children that’s how I died!”
Thank god, the Heimlich worked. Otherwise, I’d be forever remembered like Elvis, you know, people always picturing him sitting on the john trying to you-know-what. Only in my case, they'd picture me gagging in a very unprofessional manner.
Another thing about working alone—when someone knocks on the door, it always freaks me out. I immediately pick up the phone and dial 91, so that I can continue dialing 911 if the person turns out to be a serial killer. At least, that way I can let someone know I’ve been murdered.
See what I mean about working alone? Sometimes it’s just weird as hell.
posted by Keash at 1:24 PM
2 Comments:
Whoa. So did you puke? Did you have to jam your stomach against the corner of the kitchen counter? I'd hope you'd know this without my saying so, but I'm REALLY glad you didn't die!
Makes me remember to tell you I love you, Keashie!
p.s. my inner copyeditor is cringing at 'manor' Unless you meant that the house has been named in the tradition of southern plantations and that you were gagging INSIDE of Very Unprofessional Manor. And that there are (at least) two houses of the same name, which is why you were gagging in "A" Very Unprofessional Manor. But you'd still have to capitalize the proper name.
you are such a lovable freak. ;)
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