Just Another Day for a Work-at-Home Writer Mom

You know the day isn't going to start off well when the very first words you hear, after the clock radio starts blaring "Don't Stop Believing," is "Mom! Charlie (the dog) threw up in his crate."

Ugh. Nothing like dealing with dog puke before you've had a chance to brush your teeth.

Oh, but we're not done yet: "Mom, I don't feel so well."

So here I am, with a kid home sick from school, a bedroom that smells like dog vomit, breakfast to make and a 9 a.m. conference call with three people in New York who will decide whether they want to hire me for a great freelancing gig.

In other words: No time for Calgon to take me away.

But it all got done. By 8:55, the bedroom smelled better, the school attendance folks were called, and the kid was fed and was happily lounging in the den drinking orange juice and watching a Bill Cosby DVD.

And there I was, at 9:00, in my home office sounding (I hoped) like I had it completely together as I talked with three very nice people on a conference call — as the dog barked in the background.

Hey, nobody ever said this working-from-home thing would be easy.