Sunday, February 1, 2009

Things I Do and Don't Want to Do This Week

My freelance writing assignments are finally finished and, with no more on the horizon, I'm back in the ranks of the unemployed freelancers. For weeks, I've been thinking about all the things I'd like to do when I have lots of free time again—and all the things I need to do. Here's a partial list:
  1. Nap (during breaks in construction noise)
  2. Have lunch with a friend at Cosí
  3. Have lunch with a friend in the North End
  4. Have lunch with a friend off Huntington Avenue
  5. Have lunch with 2 friends at Petit Robert
  6. Visit a friend's gallery in the South End (and have lunch)
  7. Take 3 evil strength-training classes per week
  8. Clean this filthy little apartment, starting with the piles on my desk
  9. Go ice skating on the Frog Pond
  10. Go for a long walk every day
  11. Get rid of the magazine pile (i.e., reading them all and clipping articles)
  12. Get rid of the last vestiges of Christmas (2 wreaths)
  13. Create a web site for my freelance writing 
  14. Job hunt and network
  15. Renew my passport
  16. Dust off my guitar and start playing again
  17. Start drawing again
  18. Start reading again: I'm way behind on my book-a-week goal for this year
  19. Fill a few shopping bags with stuff for the Salvation Army or Boomerang's
  20. Email some of my former clients, just in case
  21. Visit the Gardner Museum before they ruin it for good
  22. Waste a big chunk of an afternoon in a good bookstore
Whew! I'm exhausted just thinking about all this. But such a long list, and especially one that includes fun, it's inevitable that some big freelance project can't be far away. 

If I get only as far as #1 tomorrow, I'll be happy. Will keep you posted.

No comments:

Post a Comment

I love getting comments and do my best to follow up if you have a question. I delete spam, attempts to market other websites, and anything nasty or unintelligible. The cats and I thank you for reading — and please do leave a comment that isn't spam, etc.