At the End | Photo by Carolina Heza on Unsplash | 31 Days of Wild Writing, Beth Morey | Abundant Content
Photo by Carolina Heza on Unsplash

At the end…

At the end of what, anyway?

The first thing that comes to mind is how much I panic at the end of the school year. My daughter is little, I’m self-employed, and my wife works in a restaurant. Somehow this translates to me being the one to shuffle the kid around and arrange childcare.

Panic ensues here, because my clients tend to work on business hours. I panic because I sense the dread – the dread of scrambling for childcare, of feeling like I need to beg to go to work, of feeling like my work is not given the respect or understanding it deserves because I am the boss. It feels as if this translates to “you can just work when you want to.”

At the end of the school year, I panic. 

Guilt, because I need to work. Stress, stacking up. The feeling of having no chance to focus, of being stifled, held back, disrespected, stressed, and sucked dry by family, that’s what I feel at the end of the day. It’s not where I want to be, but it’s where I wind up frequently. 

Letting myself go down that rabbithole, I’m the one, at the end of the day, who has sacrificed work so my daughter doesn’t have to get shoved off to daycare, so my wife can go work a low-paying kitchen job making half what I charge my clients – and at the end of the month, because of this, we bring home the same pay. 

At the end, though it makes no sense to me now, I just have to trust.

I have to trust that the universe will continue to bring understanding and flexible clients; that appropriate part-time companionship for my daughter will come through so I can work fluidly; that this frustration I feel is simply the universe reminding me to steady both my focus and my pen.

What is this and why is it on my business blog? More info can be found here.

Writing Wild: Day 1, At the End
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