We've lived here more than a year and a half, and I had never seen the inside of Paul's office. More importantly, neither had Edith. That's more important because Edith seemed to think that Paul worked in a car.
Almost every weekday we would have a conversation like this:
Edith: Daddy home?
Me: No, Daddy's at work.
Edith: Car?
Then I would proceed to explain that Daddy drives a car to work, but that's not where he actually works. Instead of having the conversation a million more times, I asked Paul when we could visit him and go to lunch.
That day was last Friday. Edith seemed shocked to see Daddy meeting us in the lobby, but she soon warmed up to the coworkers he introduced us to. Then we went to Chipotle. A win for all of us.
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 10, 2015
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Launching a Freelance Writing Career
I'm writing again, and not just for my blog.
The move to Ohio seemed like the perfect time to launch a freelance career -- new beginnings and all. In August I started freelance copywriting, and in September I began reporting for newspapers again.
Right now I work only from home, usually a couple of hours a day, more or less. Even though I'm nowhere near full-time, re-entering the workforce in even this limited capacity is both more rewarding and more difficult than I expected.
The copywriting jobs I've received call on the skills I learned spending five years in a New York City marketing department. The company I freelance for assigns me content to be written for businesses based mostly in the U.S. and Australia. I've written website copy, blog posts, marketing emails, press releases, tweets and even a flier. I can do the work whenever I want -- and that's frequently closer to midnight rather than noon.
I've put back on my journalism cap for the newspaper group I worked for before moving to New York. These pieces are more difficult, but mainly because of the baby in the background. I conduct phone interviews during working hours, and Edith's non-existent schedule doesn't always cooperate. I learned Friday that a few Cheerios will keep her quiet through at least one interview.
I'm glad to be getting back into the swing of things. Sometimes I miss the office environment -- particularly when I'm interviewing or trying to meet a deadline -- but overall I like working from home. I'll be the first to admit that it's a balancing act I haven't yet mastered. My free time is practically nil: To whit, I haven't finished a book since moving to Ohio, which is killing me. But I believe the positives will outweigh the negatives, and I hope I'm right.
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Between Work and Baby
I've been off work now for a little more than a week, and it still feels strange to watch Paul leave in the morning while I'm still in my pajamas.
My last day in the office was extended by a few days because of Hurricane Sandy. The hurricane knocked out power throughout Lower Manhattan, and my office was without electricity -- and therefore closed -- the entire five days of what was supposed to be my final week.
Power was restored the Saturday following the storm, and I went in on Sunday, Monday and Tuesday. I was glad I did. It gave me time to finish cleaning out my desk, drawers and emails and pass on a few more tidbits to my successor. And on my last day, my coworkers gave me a baby shower -- a lovely way to end my five years on the job.
Now that I'm home every day, one thing hasn't changed: starting each morning creating or adding to a large to-do list. Each day I tell Edith to hold on just a little longer. Mom has too much to do!
In all honesty, the must-do list is shrinking, if it hasn't vanished entirely. Edith, whenever she arrives, will come home from the hospital in a car seat that's already installed, and she has clean clothes and a clean bed to sleep in. She won't go hungry. What more could a newborn want?
But in the meantime I want to make sure each room is spotless, the laundry is done and that I have enough stamps for the birth announcements. You know, all of that stuff that could be done later. Except I want it done now.
Don't worry: I'm not overdoing it. Paul's certainly doing more than his share by tending to my neurosis. And while he's at work I make sure to take frequent breaks to read and maybe watch one of the episodes of "Upstairs, Downstairs" I taped specifically for the time between work and baby. But in the meantime, I have some clothes to separate.
My last day in the office was extended by a few days because of Hurricane Sandy. The hurricane knocked out power throughout Lower Manhattan, and my office was without electricity -- and therefore closed -- the entire five days of what was supposed to be my final week.
Power was restored the Saturday following the storm, and I went in on Sunday, Monday and Tuesday. I was glad I did. It gave me time to finish cleaning out my desk, drawers and emails and pass on a few more tidbits to my successor. And on my last day, my coworkers gave me a baby shower -- a lovely way to end my five years on the job.
Now that I'm home every day, one thing hasn't changed: starting each morning creating or adding to a large to-do list. Each day I tell Edith to hold on just a little longer. Mom has too much to do!
In all honesty, the must-do list is shrinking, if it hasn't vanished entirely. Edith, whenever she arrives, will come home from the hospital in a car seat that's already installed, and she has clean clothes and a clean bed to sleep in. She won't go hungry. What more could a newborn want?
But in the meantime I want to make sure each room is spotless, the laundry is done and that I have enough stamps for the birth announcements. You know, all of that stuff that could be done later. Except I want it done now.
Don't worry: I'm not overdoing it. Paul's certainly doing more than his share by tending to my neurosis. And while he's at work I make sure to take frequent breaks to read and maybe watch one of the episodes of "Upstairs, Downstairs" I taped specifically for the time between work and baby. But in the meantime, I have some clothes to separate.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Last Week of Work
I got my first job when I was 16 and haven't been off a company payroll for more than a month or so at a time since then.
My first two years of college, it took me a few weeks to find a job at the beginning of the quarter, and when we moved to New York, I was out of work for a little more than a month. Other then those times, I've always had a job -- or at least had one lined up to begin at the end of a college break.
So this week is bittersweet. It's my final week at my last full-time job for a while. Come Saturday, I won't be earning a steady paycheck for pretty much the first time in 15 years. (And my final week will be a short one -- the office is closed today because of Hurricane Sandy.)
It was a difficult decision to stay home after the birth of our first child, but luckily it's a correctable decision if I determine I've made the wrong one. In the meantime, I know exactly how lucky I am to be able to have the option to stay at home at all.
However, I hope I won't leave the workforce altogether. Come springtime, I would like to dip my toe back into the waters, this time as a freelance writer working from home. I'm both excited and nervous about taking this step, but I think it will be a good one for both me and the family.
I'm not worried about becoming a stereotypical housewife, mostly because I still can't cook (I'm trying to learn!) and I hate to clean. What I am worried about are the long, cold winter days in which I'll be stuck inside with little sleep and without another adult voice.
But I've thoroughly explored the pros and cons of the full-time working world. Now it's time to find out the joys and challenges on the home front.
My first two years of college, it took me a few weeks to find a job at the beginning of the quarter, and when we moved to New York, I was out of work for a little more than a month. Other then those times, I've always had a job -- or at least had one lined up to begin at the end of a college break.
So this week is bittersweet. It's my final week at my last full-time job for a while. Come Saturday, I won't be earning a steady paycheck for pretty much the first time in 15 years. (And my final week will be a short one -- the office is closed today because of Hurricane Sandy.)
It was a difficult decision to stay home after the birth of our first child, but luckily it's a correctable decision if I determine I've made the wrong one. In the meantime, I know exactly how lucky I am to be able to have the option to stay at home at all.
However, I hope I won't leave the workforce altogether. Come springtime, I would like to dip my toe back into the waters, this time as a freelance writer working from home. I'm both excited and nervous about taking this step, but I think it will be a good one for both me and the family.
I'm not worried about becoming a stereotypical housewife, mostly because I still can't cook (I'm trying to learn!) and I hate to clean. What I am worried about are the long, cold winter days in which I'll be stuck inside with little sleep and without another adult voice.
But I've thoroughly explored the pros and cons of the full-time working world. Now it's time to find out the joys and challenges on the home front.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Working on Holidays in New York City
Martin Luther King Jr. Day: Another holiday in which I'm going to work while Paul stays in bed.
Even if the calendar hadn't already informed me, I'd be able to tell it was a holiday as soon as I got to the subway station. The platform will be sparser. On the train, almost everyone will get a seat.
When I exit the station in Lower Manhattan, I won't have to dart across the sidewalk, feeling like I'm playing a barely successful game of Frogger. Instead, I'll be able to leisurely stroll the few steps to the other side. I won't have to watch out for many bankers in business suits; the people most likely to be in my way are the tourists hitting up the Century 21 department store.
I take a different train on the way home, one where I'm almost always not only standing, but also pressed up against at least one person in a way that would be uncomfortable and/or embarrassing in any other situation. On holidays, I might get a seat. At the very least, I'll be able to breathe.
Of course, no one would trade in their day off for a more pleasant commute. But for those of us who don't have a choice, it's not such a bad consolation prize.
Even if the calendar hadn't already informed me, I'd be able to tell it was a holiday as soon as I got to the subway station. The platform will be sparser. On the train, almost everyone will get a seat.
When I exit the station in Lower Manhattan, I won't have to dart across the sidewalk, feeling like I'm playing a barely successful game of Frogger. Instead, I'll be able to leisurely stroll the few steps to the other side. I won't have to watch out for many bankers in business suits; the people most likely to be in my way are the tourists hitting up the Century 21 department store.
I take a different train on the way home, one where I'm almost always not only standing, but also pressed up against at least one person in a way that would be uncomfortable and/or embarrassing in any other situation. On holidays, I might get a seat. At the very least, I'll be able to breathe.
Of course, no one would trade in their day off for a more pleasant commute. But for those of us who don't have a choice, it's not such a bad consolation prize.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
An Ode to Ryan Maguire's
Ryan Maguire's Ale House was the bar of choice for my coworkers long before Paul and I started joining them almost a year ago.
Why? A great choice of reasonably priced beers, nice bartenders, a good jukebox and plenty of space. And it's only five blocks from the office.
Until last week. An early morning fire destroyed the bar.
I'm sorry for the owner and the employees. I'm sorry for the people living in the apartments above (four hospitalized, and all expected to fully recover). And I'm sorry that a place with so many good memories literally went up in smoke.
New York has thousands of bars. Thousands upon thousands upon thousands. But it might as well have about three, because that's the number I frequent with any sort of regularity. Sure, New York has quantity. But the diamonds are hidden, and in Ryan's we had found one. Now it's back to the search.
Why? A great choice of reasonably priced beers, nice bartenders, a good jukebox and plenty of space. And it's only five blocks from the office.
Until last week. An early morning fire destroyed the bar.
I'm sorry for the owner and the employees. I'm sorry for the people living in the apartments above (four hospitalized, and all expected to fully recover). And I'm sorry that a place with so many good memories literally went up in smoke.
New York has thousands of bars. Thousands upon thousands upon thousands. But it might as well have about three, because that's the number I frequent with any sort of regularity. Sure, New York has quantity. But the diamonds are hidden, and in Ryan's we had found one. Now it's back to the search.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Water Taxi Beach: Sand, But No Swimming
Sand. Skeeball. Drinks. Did I mention sand?
That's all it took to convince me and a group of coworkers to visit Water Taxi Beach at the South Street Seaport on Friday.
It's an easy walk from work, but I'd never been. But a beach on the banks of the East River was intriguing, although you can't actually swim there-- even if you'd want to. In fact, a fence separates all beach-goers from the river (leading one co-worker to speculate that kids visiting Water Taxi Beach would grow up without the slightest idea that -- gasp! -- beaches are actually for swimming!).
To paraphrase another co-worker, Water Taxi Beach is little more than a few truckloads of Home Depot sand spread thin. It couldn't have been more than a few inches before you'd hit concrete. But that didn't stop the kids from making sandcastles or me from flopping off my sandals and digging my feet in the sand.
The beach is practically in the shadow of the Brooklyn Bridge, with good views of the Manhattan Bridge and, even further out, the Williamsburg Bridge. Manhattan lies on one side of the river, Brooklyn on the other. As an almost-full moon rose above the bridges, the night seemed almost magical-- if it weren't for the bright blue and orange neon palm trees lining the beach.
Despite the sights, the $5 cover and poor selection of adequate drinks means this isn't a destination I'd choose every weekend. But I'd willingly return and stake out another picnic table. And maybe next time I'll actually play skeeball.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
To the Man Who Just Moved In
Dear Man Who Moved Into the Apartment Opposite the Kitchen at Work,
Congrats on your new place! And sorry for accidentally making eye contact with you when I was in the hallway at work. I'm pretty sure there's an unspoken rule against that. Anyway, it probably won't happen again. I noticed your blinds were installed by the end of the day.
I hope you're used to keeping the blinds shut in your bedroom. Otherwise your bed's in a really bad spot.
See, your windows face our office's busiest corridor-- the one that links the entrance to the kitchen to about half of the office. I walk down the hallway at least eight times a day, and I peek into your new place each and every time.
In the last few weeks my co-workers and I have watched as real estate agents gave tours of your apartment. And we all noticed when the floors got waxed; they're as shiny as a bald man's head. Looks like a nice place. Two, maybe three bedrooms? Hope you got a deal.
We'll probably be seeing more of each other, although hopefully not too much. Remember about those blinds.
Your neighbor,
Diane
Congrats on your new place! And sorry for accidentally making eye contact with you when I was in the hallway at work. I'm pretty sure there's an unspoken rule against that. Anyway, it probably won't happen again. I noticed your blinds were installed by the end of the day.
I hope you're used to keeping the blinds shut in your bedroom. Otherwise your bed's in a really bad spot.
See, your windows face our office's busiest corridor-- the one that links the entrance to the kitchen to about half of the office. I walk down the hallway at least eight times a day, and I peek into your new place each and every time.
In the last few weeks my co-workers and I have watched as real estate agents gave tours of your apartment. And we all noticed when the floors got waxed; they're as shiny as a bald man's head. Looks like a nice place. Two, maybe three bedrooms? Hope you got a deal.
We'll probably be seeing more of each other, although hopefully not too much. Remember about those blinds.
Your neighbor,
Diane
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Morning in Manhattan
Showers and flowers.
I've seen plenty of both over the last couple of weeks, which have made for some pretty (though not always pleasant) Manhattan mornings.
Luckily, I work in an area of the city serviced by plenty of subway lines. When it's raining, snowing, or cold I always take a train that drops me off less than a block from my office.
If it's warm and sunny, however, I'll stay on the R train and get off at a stop that's about a 5 or 10 minute walk to work. And if it's a Thursday, I get the added bonus of picking up a chocolate chip scone at the farmer's market in the park (read: slab of concrete) that's on my way.
And if I'm extra lucky, I'll have a couple of extra minutes before I rush up to my third-floor desk to snap a quick photo or two of Manhattan in the morning.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
The World According to Spam
I periodically scan the spam filter of the blog I manage at work to make sure a real comment doesn't get thrown out with all of the junk. The spam is easy to spot, of course-- lots of links and usually longer than the post itself.
On Monday, however, I came across spam of a different sort. Inspirational spam (with a scary one or two thrown in for good measure).
I've received spam like this before, but never so much at one time. So here, unedited and split into categories for your reading pleasure, are 17 of Monday's 63 pieces of spam:
Didn't I Read That in a Fortune Cookie?
A lot of good arguments are spoiled by some fool who knows what he is talking about.
We are what we think. All that we are arises with our thoughts. With our thoughts, we make the world.
The most incomprehensible thing about the world is that it is comprehensible.
A wise man changes his mind, a fool never
the only thing one can be sure of changing is oneself
You won’t find a solution by saying there is no problem
If your happiness depends on what somebody else does, I guess you do have a problem.
When an argument flares up, the wise man quenches it with silence
Although the world is full of suffering, it is full also of the overcoming of it
Many can argue; not many converse
Spam That Starts Conversations
All paid jobs absorb and degrade the mind
It is an interesting and demonstrable fact, that all children are atheists and were religion not inculcated into their minds, they would remain so
The whole problem with the world is that fools and fanatics are always so certain of themselves, but wiser people so full of doubts
Life is not a continuum of pleasant choices, but of inevitable problems that call for strength, determination, and hard work
What’s the use of a fine house if you haven’t got a tolerable planet to put it on?
I Don't Think That's Exactly True
There are very few personal problems that cannot be solved through a suitable application of high explosives
Huh?
I know the answer! The answer lies within the heart of all mankind! I think I’m in the wrong building.
On Monday, however, I came across spam of a different sort. Inspirational spam (with a scary one or two thrown in for good measure).
I've received spam like this before, but never so much at one time. So here, unedited and split into categories for your reading pleasure, are 17 of Monday's 63 pieces of spam:
Didn't I Read That in a Fortune Cookie?
A lot of good arguments are spoiled by some fool who knows what he is talking about.
We are what we think. All that we are arises with our thoughts. With our thoughts, we make the world.
The most incomprehensible thing about the world is that it is comprehensible.
A wise man changes his mind, a fool never
the only thing one can be sure of changing is oneself
You won’t find a solution by saying there is no problem
If your happiness depends on what somebody else does, I guess you do have a problem.
When an argument flares up, the wise man quenches it with silence
Although the world is full of suffering, it is full also of the overcoming of it
Many can argue; not many converse
Spam That Starts Conversations
All paid jobs absorb and degrade the mind
It is an interesting and demonstrable fact, that all children are atheists and were religion not inculcated into their minds, they would remain so
The whole problem with the world is that fools and fanatics are always so certain of themselves, but wiser people so full of doubts
Life is not a continuum of pleasant choices, but of inevitable problems that call for strength, determination, and hard work
What’s the use of a fine house if you haven’t got a tolerable planet to put it on?
I Don't Think That's Exactly True
There are very few personal problems that cannot be solved through a suitable application of high explosives
Huh?
I know the answer! The answer lies within the heart of all mankind! I think I’m in the wrong building.
Monday, April 7, 2008
NYSE-- Who knew?
I work five blocks from the New York Stock Exchange.I did not realize this until about three weeks ago.
Yes, it took me four months to figure out that I work within walking distance of the center of the financial world.
I knew I worked close to Wall Street. That subway stop is the one right before the one where I get off, and it only takes about a minute to get there, so I knew it was close. So during my lunch break on a blustery Friday, I went exploring.
Sure enough, I saw some interesting sights/sites. Trinity Church is about five blocks away on Broadway at Wall Street. I took some photos from the second floor of a Borders bookstore across the street.
Turn east and walk a few blocks, and there's the NYSE. It's hard to miss-- it's the building about a million people are taking photos of.
Before I descended into my subway station after work that night, I noticed that I could very clearly see the building from Nassau Street, about a 1/2 block from work. I'm obviously turning into a New Yorker, keeping my head down and not getting a clear look at anything!
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Bragging about my husband
Paul got a surprise at work today-- a new title. He's now an assistant vice president. No change in duties, but it sounds impressive!
Monday, November 12, 2007
Tasty treats and sad defeats
Even 500 miles away, we still can't divorce ourselves from Ohio State football. When we aren't here to watch the games on TV live, Paul's sure to set the DVR. And since we have the Big 10 channel, I don't think we've missed a one.
Still, Paul was excited to watch the game with the OSU alumni club at a bar in Times Square on Saturday. Of course, he wasn't very excited when we left with a loss to our name.
The game was preceded by a visit to Bierkraft, a store selling (what else?) specialty beers in nearby Park Slope. He was happy with the selection but has been disappointed with the surprising lack of homebrew supply stores in New York City. As in, none.
After the game, we headed back to Park Slope for a visit to The Chocolate Room. Paul and I agreed to celebrate my new job at a place of my choosing, and this was it. It's a small cafe seating maybe 25 people at the most and sells only chocolate desserts and wine. I got a delectable piece of cake with fudgy frosting. Paul's hot chocolate was as thick and rich as fondue (which is also on the menu).
But today it was back to the real world. I started my job proofreading documents translated from other languages, and tomorrow I'll learn more about the writing aspect. Some good news: the dress code is superb (jeans are OK) and I get the day after Thanksgiving and all the typical holidays off (albeit without pay). And work starts at 10 a.m. I can live with that.
Still, Paul was excited to watch the game with the OSU alumni club at a bar in Times Square on Saturday. Of course, he wasn't very excited when we left with a loss to our name.
The game was preceded by a visit to Bierkraft, a store selling (what else?) specialty beers in nearby Park Slope. He was happy with the selection but has been disappointed with the surprising lack of homebrew supply stores in New York City. As in, none.
After the game, we headed back to Park Slope for a visit to The Chocolate Room. Paul and I agreed to celebrate my new job at a place of my choosing, and this was it. It's a small cafe seating maybe 25 people at the most and sells only chocolate desserts and wine. I got a delectable piece of cake with fudgy frosting. Paul's hot chocolate was as thick and rich as fondue (which is also on the menu).
But today it was back to the real world. I started my job proofreading documents translated from other languages, and tomorrow I'll learn more about the writing aspect. Some good news: the dress code is superb (jeans are OK) and I get the day after Thanksgiving and all the typical holidays off (albeit without pay). And work starts at 10 a.m. I can live with that.
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