While the Sun Shines

Last Friday, I was stunned, truly stunned to find myself saying “Thank God It’s Friday.” I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt that way. If I reach back in the dusty places of my memory when I still had a “real” job I might be able to come up with something, but even then, I’ve been so strict about how much work I’m willing to take on that I rarely end up in the TGIF state.

I genuinely like the work I do, and most of the time I’m good at it, so it’s not like I’m suffering while I work. I know it’s a little odd to be the kind of person who enjoys writing about you how should wire your DVD player to your cable box to your TV, but there you have it. I guess I enjoy the reverse messiness of taking things apart. When you put things together, there’s a sort of neatness you want to achieve. By the time I get involved in a project, the thing is already put together and it’s my job to take it apart and put it back together again. I like that. I’m lucky; it’s a good living. And as a writer, I get to work at home.

Just a few days ago, while I was sitting at my desk I watched a funny little bird comedy unfold. A Stellar’s blue jay landed on my hedge with something large in its beak. The bird stuffed its possession in the top of the hedge as though it was going to be back for it later. Shortly after, a flicker – it’s a kind of woodpecker – hopped around on the patio under the hedge. “It’s up above! On the left!” I told her, out the window. I don’t speak woodpecker so she didn’t understand me and she flew off without the prize. I went out in the garden to find out what it was. A peanut. I stuffed it back in the hedge. “That explains the peanuts on the front walk,” I thought. When I first found them I thought, wow, elephant infestation, there’s no spray for that, but no, it’s just the jays. Anyway, later that same day, a crow landed on the same hedge and, finding the peanut, flew off with it in its beak. That’s what passes for office drama at my house. I’m okay with that.

It was a hard week because I have a real “I can do that” attitude about almost anything, except, say, high rise window washing and writing code and surgery. I’d said yes to something difficult. I often say yes to something difficult, but typically I have more time to tackle the issue. Rather than whine about what happened, let’s just say that with the help of a super smart coworker, it all came together at the end. I’m not a glory hog and hey, help was critical to getting this stuff done, I was happy that super smart coworker found a way to pull it all together. And relieved. And then, it was Friday and I was whupped.

I’m still kind of stressed. I’m learning the landscape of a new client while the guidebook project I’m supposed to be working on sits just there saying “Pay attention to me! To me!” I’m not worried that I won’t be able to do it all or that I won’t be able to do a good job but I do have a tower of work in front of me. My days are a blur of phone calls to tourism providers punctuated with unraveling technical issues and saying no to additional projects.

It is a delight to be in demand; the ultimate flattery for a worker is more work. But it is tiring. I told a uke playing friend that I was swamped with work but that I’d ride the wave until it hits the beach. Being a Nebraska boy by birth, he called it making hay while the sun shines. It’s hard to work during the summer while the sun is shining in Seattle because it’s such a temporary state of affairs, but there’s always the weekend to enjoy it. As a person who’s been used to a more interpretive definition of weekend, I’m learning to appreciate the calendar again. At the end of the week, I turn off my computer, go sit outside, and see what my coworkers, the birds, are up to.

TGIF, my winged friends, TGIF.