After 30 years as a reporter, feature writer and columnist for The Toronto Sun, Sandy is now a freelance writer, public speaker, mental health advocate and Seneca College instructor. You can learn more about Sandy here, and contact her here.
"Blessed are the cracked, for they shall let in the light." Groucho Marx
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If you've been following the comments to my last post On Compassion and Empathy... you'll notice some discussion about my emotional vulnerability.
For some reason, these last few weeks have been very busy both here, in the comments, and particularly in my personal email in-box.
When you write to me directly and often anonymously, I try to respond quickly and appropriately. This takes enormous amounts of time. And I'm feeling it right now – overwhelmed and unprotected – plus there are other pressures weighing on me, too.
So, it's time for me to take a break.
For the next week, I'm going to have a quiet time here at "Coming Out Crazy" – I'll keep an eye on the comments, but I need to recharge.
One of my friends quite rightly said that if I don't take care of myself, I won't be any good to anybody.
So, in that vein, I'm declaring the last week in July 2009 my own personal "Midsummer Madness" – a break from blogging.
Everyone deserves a holiday and I never realized that when you freelance for a living and you work from your home, there is no such thing as "closing the door and leaving your work at the office." That never happens when your office is five steps from your bedroom. You check your email before you brush your teeth, you read the 100 or so overnight headlines on NetNewsWire, and you work in your nightie.
All before a drop of coffee has touched your lips.
On the other hand, Marty, my husband, lives like he did when he was the executive producer of a CTV drama. Business all the way. He awakens, performs his ablutions, saunters downstairs to eat his breakfast, and read the paper. Then he gets dressed and goes to his office, next to mine.
I'm a sloth.
He brings me a mug of his divine Bodum French Press Coffee, places it beside my mouse pad, and gently kisses me on the back of my neck. Practically oblivious, I sip this ambrosia and blithely continue writing, usually from about 6 a.m. every day, seven days a week. I rarely get to bed before 12:30 a.m.)
There's nothing free about freelancing. You can't get away from your work. It stalks you everywhere you go. There's always something to do. And it's always on your mind. You're never done.
So you must carefully plan your escapes. That's what I'm doing right now. This is my plan. Hanging up the "Gone Fishin'" sign. Wish me luck.
I hope you'll understand. And most importantly, I wish you a peaceful meantime.