Um, okay, so I think we should dub October (and the first part of November) the month-of-inconsistent-blogging. The record of posts is absolutely pathetic. My excuse? A snowstorm of projects, a trip to Texas, a wedding, a death in the family (poor Yeti-dog), a presidential election (congratulations Barack), and, of course, True Blood. Yes, it would accurate to say that it's been ONE HELL OF A 30 DAYS. But I'm glad to say that I'm back.
I took the whole weekend off this weekend. I watched t.v. Had breakfast with the hubster. Threw the ball with the Quinn-dog. Almost didn't check my email. It was great. Hadn't had a weekend off in....weeks.
However, I had time to think about things like: the fact that my house is a mess, and I need to buy my Christmas cards, and I need to start going to the gym beFORE new year's resolution season.
With that, I had today all planned out. Up, gym, home, breakfast, shower, and work, work, work. Take the dog for a walk, cook dinner, more laundry, you know the drill. Domestic diva type shenanigans.
Instead I slept until 7:45. And then watched Good Morning America until 10am, then decided to rearrange my office until noon. I am officially the queen of procrastination.
Truthfully, the only thing that makes my office an 'office' is the fact that I sometimes work in there and it houses my laptop. Sometimes. It doesn't have a fax machine, or a phone, or a printer, or any of that officey stuff. Of which I am CONSTANTLY reminded because clients are always wanting me to scan, fax, and creatively transmit various documents. Ugh.
I am in total resistant to this crap. And I don't know why. It's perfectly logical for them to assume that I--a professional--would have a fully equipped office. Alas, I do not.
I say that I don't have a printer for 'environmental reasons,' which is almost true. Printers almost always lead to obsessive and unnecessary printing. But the truth is that I'm too cheap and lazy to get all this stuff.
Like today, the account at one of my client's office sends me this fancy schmancy W-9 form. It was like a living thing...which is why I couldn't operate it. I wrote her to tell her as much and I could hear the irritation in her response: 'You're going to have to print it and sign, and then fax, scan and email, or mail it.'
Ugh. This will take up my whole Tuesday.
Am I alone in my unwillingness to print, fax, and scan? Am I just being a baby? I think I already know the answer. Just thought I'd check anyway.