What It Is (posts below left; rate sheet, client list, other stuff below right)

My name is Bob Land. I am a full-time freelance editor, indexer, and proofreader. This blog is my website.

You'll find my rate sheet and client list here, as well as musings on the life of a freelancer; editing, proofreading, and indexing concerns and issues; my ongoing battles with books and production; and the occasional personal revelation.

Feel free to contact me directly with additional questions: landondemand@gmail.com.

Thanks for visiting. Leave me a comment. Come back often.

Monday, July 16, 2007

bodily harm

Sitting on one's butt for 18 hours a day working can make a butt really tired. And a mind, too.

But I don't really know the line between the tiredness being physical/mental and the mind just wanting to give up. It's an element of depression in a way.

Even back in college, when I was overwhelmed with the amount I had to do, I would get sleepy, even when I'd had enough rest . . . which makes working impossible, of course.

I'll say these days that I'm too tired to work and have too much work to relax enough to sleep. It's not hard to see where this goes.

Every once in a while, the load gets nerve-wracking, as it is now. I count my blessings daily as a freelancer that the amount of work is too much rather than not enough, because trust me, if I am ever truly caught up and have nothing to do and nothing scheduled, that is the day you do not want to be around me.

So, what was it the saint said, "Lord, give me chastity, but not just yet." Something like that.

I read a Carl Sandburg quote about retirement today that basically said it's fine, as long as it doesn't get in the way of work.

2 comments:

moi said...

Bob said:
"I'll say these days that I'm too tired to work and have too much work to relax enough to sleep. It's not hard to see where this goes."

Don't I know it. But then with no work, I will clean closets the world never knew existed. Scrub bathroom tile with tiny lil' toothbrushes. Bake obscure Russian desserts that no one wants to eat, order shoes I won't wear, and ask all the Big Questions.

Oy. What was wrong with 9 to 5 again?

Bob Land said...

I'll give you the four words that drove me out of 9 to 5:

Atlanta traffic
Microwave popcorn