Andrea Mara

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Fixing the morning I broke

Do you ever have mornings where everything goes wrong? Where you come downstairs and last night’s saucepan is still on the hob and it’s not anyone’s fault because we were all out late at different events and activities, but still, it’s irritating? And the kids are late getting up and late getting down for breakfast, but they don’t understand how late it is no matter how often you tell them? And then one child pushes a door without realising there’s a sibling on the other side, and all manner of crying (in-genuine-pain-crying, guilt-laden-crying, joining-in-for-the-craic-crying) breaks out? And then you’re late leaving because of all the crying and the not understanding it’s late, and by the time you get to the school everyone else is gone in? And one child thinks it’s quiet, because it’s so early, and accuses you of being wrong about the lateness? And one child keeps anxiously asking if the teacher will be cross? And one child is just quiet so you’ve no idea what’s going on? And you say goodbye and kiss them all and try smoothing over everything so that they’re going in happy and contented and not at all worried except of course it’s too late for that?

And then you look for a fix – a way to get through the rest of the day without over-thinking and over-analysing how the morning went and how the kids are feeling.

In my old job, I usually fixed it by going out for takeaway coffees. One for me and one each for my work friends, who would then in turn have to listen to my crappy morning story, and then they’d tell me their crappy evening stories or crappy meeting stories, and we’d all feel better and get on with our day. And even if I wasn’t quite in the right mood for the most productive work of all time, it wasn’t the end of the world. There was always admin to do or meetings to distract, and failing that, more coffee.

And that’s the thing about working from home. There’s nobody here.

I can buy coffee, but it’s just for me. I can moan about my crappy morning, but I’m talking to myself. I can have a less than productive day except, really I can’t. There’s no way to write a book when spirits are at half-mast. There’s always admin, but with work time so short and deadlines so near, I can’t waste a morning on admin. (Did I mention my book 2 deadline is one month sooner than I thought – November 1st, not end of November?)

So hello internet, I’m moaning here. Hoping that typing the words will bring some of the catharsis that comes from moaning to friends at the office. And I’m drinking coffee. And in three hours, the very long but very short work morning is over. Then it’s time to pick them up with extra hugs, to fix the morning I broke.

 

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