Vexation to the Writing Spirit

There was a time when I write about the advantages of having a career as an online writer. I have probably written a dozen of those ready-made articles proselytizing the benefits of writing and working in the comfort of your home. Though there is no doubt that there is a long list that can be included why one is better to work at home than struggling to get out of your bed every morning and travel an average of four hours a day going and back from office, the pang of reality that there are too some challenges working from home is still real.

First and foremost, working as a home-based writer or whatever field you are in (given that your work is possible to be done at home) is an alien idea or practice that can not be easily understood by common folks that do the daily grind of working in the traditional way. Nevertheless, that is not an issue that you have to contend with what if you are already fattening your wallet and bank account with wiretransfer and paypal paycheck (just don’t ask me where are my dough now –smirking).

The first challenge or obstacle, if you can call it that, is the distraction created by daily domestic chores presented by your very home, the comfort of your home as I have said. I remember once when my late father told me that the nature and utility of home is basically and purely for a place where you can sleep and that was it. Home is not your working place. Yup, very traditional. And yes, when my good mother said while I roamed the house looking for some kind of inspirational miracle so that I can write: who will pay you for your work. There is basically no boss or even an accounting department to hand you that dough present in the house: a phantom employer she probably was thinking. The notion of wire transfer and online payment was still vague as a muddy water for her.

As I have mentioned, the first obstacle you are going hurdle is the daily domestic chores, especially the surprise activities. When was that time when I was beating a deadline and my good mother suddenly started moving the dining table and other appliances in the house for what she saw as a need for a new arrangement of furniture in the house. The poor me, split apart and vexed all the way to the core of my writing spirit, could not do but leave my seat and the blinking cursor on my monitor to help out with her obsessive-compulsive behavior to give the interior of the house a new look.

Oh, drat! Before I blabber further let’s cut the story and the so-called vexation to the writing spirit short by saving enough for a pad (now, where’s my dough, shrug).