ellenkushner: (Default)
[personal profile] ellenkushner
Time was, a Snow Day in NYC meant tromping out through the storm in our rubber boots to the little store on the corner of 110th/B'way where they sold nips to bums, beer to students, and big jugs of cheap Italian red to us, which we took home and mulled, dipping into the hot pot on the beaten up old gas stove all day . . . the only sound was the chains on the tires of the buses down 110th St, jingling like sleigh bells so if you lay on the livingroom floor (the ratty chaise longue being occupied, and the sofa nothing to speak of) you could imagine it was horses . . . .

You could take a day off from work in those days, because work was outside and annoying. But now that dreams have come true and work is staying home writing, well... At least there's no reason to go out. I will make a pot of my mother's Split Pea Soup. I will edit stories for Welcome to Borderland. I will do my revisions on our The Witches of Lublin script for Yale & Elizabeth (we read the whole thing through by phone Tues. night).

And we've got the wine, if we can fit it in.....

dreams come true

Date: 2010-02-27 02:49 am (UTC)
auroramama: (angelique tulip)
From: [personal profile] auroramama
It sounds ideal, but not everyone is meant to unite vocation and avocation (I don't think I am.) When you work for yourself you never get an entirely blameless day off; that is, you have to give it to yourself. And some of the nicest people I know are Bosses From Hell when they're self-employed.

Re: dreams come true

Date: 2010-02-27 03:55 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ellen-kushner.livejournal.com
Self-image as hopeless disorganized goof-off makes it hard ever to relax. One of the hardest-working guys I know (Bob, my beloved old producer from WGBH) claims he is fueled entirely by fear that if he stops he'll do nothing but sit on the porch playing bass....

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