A mere four posts in and I’ve let the store life take over once again. I hate to see myself becoming one of the time-hungry zombies that seem to plague the larger cities these days, but how can I get anything done, ever?
Okay, I’m not a mother. I don’t have screaming kids to take care of. No diapers to change, mouths to feed, I don’t cook or drive children to school.
I’m not a part of any groups; as much as I’d love to join a book club, take up kickboxing, actually attend my OoE meetings and network with other entrepeneurs, I just can’t afford to.
I’m always cleaning. Even when I’m working, I’m cleaning. The fact that I don’t have a far commute between work and home (3 feet, perhaps 2 seconds), simply means I have even MORE time to clean.
The problem itself is the very same reason I write this blog: I live where I work. While I clean dishes (by hand) and vacuum the floors (with a machine as old as I am) and lug laundry to the laundromat (a block away), the father of the shop buys more stock.
While I’m organizing watch parts and filing magazines and creating new displays for the camera gear, he’s buying new stock.
While I’m mopping the kitchen floor (and getting stuck in the corner because I ALWAYS make the same mistake) or cleaning the toilet or just taking up the eternal job of dusting, he’s is bring in more stock.
I think I’ve complained about this in a previous post: the boundary between work and home is non-existant. When I’m the only one cleaning and he takes in items at a faster rate than I can find spots for, we basically disprove the whole ‘tectonic shift’ theory and create our own mountains.
Now a meeting at Starbucks with someone who would love to work for me. She’s a class-act, and I can’t afford to hire her.
Please, someone, buy my mountains!