Probs should’ve called this post, ‘A Not-At-All-Typical Week In The Life Of A Freelancer’ or, ‘How Vix Meldrew Is Failing As A Freelancer’ but after speaking to many other freelancers, full-time bloggers and ‘work-from-homers’, I’m reassured to think it MIGHT NOT JUST BE ME.
And after reading THAT Times article, I thought why not prove what we all might have suspected for a while…
I’ll also preface this by saying that it’s not a ‘typical’ week as I’m relaying what LAST week was like – if you’d like me to discuss more about how I usually run my week, when I’m being productive and running a business and not a lazy shit who just eats Xmas chocolate and wants to watch conspiracy documentaries all day, LEMME KNOW.
Wake up refreshed, eager to start the week. I do my ‘miracle morning’ productivity routine of showering, stretching and meditation before I look at my phone.
Once I’ve taken my tablets, supplements and downed 2 big glasses of water, I’m ready to see what the day ahead looks like.
I know I have coaching via Skype at 5 but the rest of the day is mine.
Head to the cafe, laptop in bag and whilst walking, play a bit of Pokemon Go.
I STILL HAVEN’T SCROLLED SOCIAL MEDIA.
Sit at my usual spot in the cafe and the girl brings me my usual iced latte because I was too awkward to tell her I wanted a hot one seeing as it’s frigging 2 DEGREES OUTSIDE.
Open my emails, respond to each one and file away.
Check my accounting spreadsheet and update it. I usually use this time to chase and send any invoices too.
Leave the cafe at 2pm, full of their DELISH buttermilk chicken and fries and head home via the Co-Op to get chocolate pretzels and get ready for coaching.
Hit an ALMIGHTY afternoon slump and watch Say Yes To The Dress, pinned to the sofa, until it’s time to jump on my coaching Facetime.
Ben arrives home mid-way through so as soon as coaching is done, everything is put away and we cook dinner together.
SEE YA TOMORROW GUYZ.
Wake up with the best intentions of ticking 13724 things off my to-do list before meeting up with Laura.
Also tell myself to do my morning routine. Fail spectacularly even though I know it makes me feel 100% better.
Instead get trapped in a scrolling whirlwind and decide that there are too many things on the to-do list to even bother with.
Fail to leave bed until precisely 2 minutes before I need to start getting ready to leave.
Take my laptop to meet Laura under the pretence that we’ll do some work before going our separate ways.
Do absolutely chuff all except talk about having babies and all of the work we need to do. If only we actually… NOPE DO NOT SAY IT.
Part ways and head straight to a blogger meet up I’ve organised at a pub in Clapham.
Wait an inordinate amount of time to order a drink, get grumpy at the loud AF band and swap Instagram conspiracy theories.
Fall into a deep wormhole of conversations on robots taking over the world.
Get the bus home, see Ben, turn everything off and head to bed.
I know I have an event today that I need to leave for so I set my alarm to make sure I actually do some work.
I get up, put on my Allbirds Wool Loungers which are the PERFECT WFH shoe. I usually go barefoot round the house but my worst thing in the world is treading on crap and we didn’t hoover after getting stir fry prep everywhere and bits are falling off my new Christmas wall hanging so these bad boys stop me from screaming obscenities into the air every time I feel peppers between my toes. Vom.
I’m going to be honest, I do NOT want to get out of my WFH uniform of joggers, hoodie and Allbirds, BUT I have an event with Mrs Hinch to get to and I can’t turn up looking like a frazzled bullfrog.
Close my laptop that I mainly titted about on making lists about making lists and ticking things off like, ‘have water’ just so I could feel like I’ve been productive.
Decide mid way through getting ready that I need a wardrobe sort out. Die. Decide to fuck it off and do it another day. LOL WHEN?
Get the bus to Piccadilly. Scoff at the Duchess of Westminster for saying people over their 30s getting the bus are losers. Listen, lady, I can observe the best of humanity whilst letting my Pokemon Go eggs hatch AND mindlessly scroll social media whilst seeing Trafalgar Square, Big Ben AND Piccadilly Circus before lunchtime – what can you do?
Arrive at the event and immediately feel like the biggest loser with no one to chat to. Luckily the brand’s PR and social team are complete huns so I chill with them until familiar faces arrive.
Scoff a 3 course roast in the name of work and try to listen to what Sophie says about becoming an internet sensation in between, ‘Minkehs’, ‘I haven’t got a clue mates’, and ‘Shark it’. Nod ferociously and smile at anyone who makes eye contact with me. Awkward, me? What?
Get an Uber home because I’m not a bus wanker.
Immediately stick my loungers on and collapse in front of the Amanda Knox documentary because I’m on a conspiracy/unsolved mysteries hype at the moment.
Welcome Ben home with a crusted liquid lipstick kiss, cook pasta and watch i’m A Celeb before sleep.
Realise that this is technically my last ‘free’ day of the week and I still have those 14775236 things to do.
Cancel a lunch that I was really excited for with a great brand because I have frigged myself over with my lack of discipline this week and I really need to get cracking.
Still stay in bed for way longer than I will ever intend to because I’m on my period and my iron is low. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
Chat to my Sister about her Instagram account she’s started. Bless her.
Decide I really should go to the cafe and be productive.
Pop my Allbirds Wool Loungers on (it’s dry outside OK and I clean the soles before wearing them around the house again – they’re just SO COMFY) and head out.
Do more fannying about on emails but actually be quite productive.
I answer more emails, write blog posts, edit photos, plan podcasts, set up ads on Facebook and only do 1 bit of Xmas shopping.
After more lattes (hot this time), I head back home to edit this week’s podcast and put it live.
In the afternoon, I Facetime coach with another babeing blogger and bleeding love every minute.
After we’re done, I stick on the Jon Benet Ramsay documentary on YouTube and chill until my Sister calls me again for (FREE FFS) Instagram advice.
Ben’s out this night so it’s PJs, documentaries, a slapped together dinner involving bread and butter before climbing into bed after I’m A Celeb.
Except Ben who comes in at midnight. Mate my contacts are out, no I can’t see the pictures of you all pissed from this evening. And thanks for cuddling me with your cold hands. Heathen.
Wake up early, drink some water and shower, taking my time.
My agenda for today is coaching, coaching and newsletter writing. Better get cracking then!
Meet the beautiful Nicole for coffee, coaching and picture taking.
End up chatting about every OTHER matter on the sun – DO SOME WORK FFS.
I’m wearing my Allbirds, and Nicole the fashionista compliments them. I mean, they couldn’t get better could they?
Once I’m home, I’m back on more Facetime coaching and as soon as this is over, Ben’s walking through the door.
Time to switch off for the weekend, except to retweet/reshare nice tweets or Insta Stories about me/the magazine/the podcast because lol narcissm.
So there’s my week. At what point did I get a free hotel stay? Or my work done for me? Or what I could really have done with – a free Deliveroo? I DIDN’T.
Yes, last week had it’s ups and downs of ZOMG ALL THE TASKS and ‘one more episode of Say Yes… won’t hurt anyone’ but it was also full of casually running my own business, helping others to transform their’s and eating a roast in the name of work.
Who’s detestable now?
*it’s me I know
This post was written in collaboration with Allbirds, whilst wearing my Allbirds and mentioning Allbirds PLENTY OF TIMES BECAUSE THEY ARE SO GOOD but as ever, all foot comfort is my own.
Success! Now check your email to confirm your subscription.