Whenever people learn I work from home, they always tell me how lucky I am. And it's true: My kitchen table is usually my desk, unless I decide to make our deck my office for the day. My dogs are my co-workers and my husband is, technically, my unpaid intern who shoots the photos for this blog and makes me coffee. And most days, I would agree that I am the luckiest. But, because I am my own boss, I also have to hold myself accountable - not only to get work done, but also to take a shower, get dressed and generally look like a presentable human. Like a lot of writers, I have some hermit-like tendencies that my job allows me to indulge in, sometimes too much. If I'm being completely honest, many days my work uniform consists of whatever I wore to bed the night before, or whatever I worked out in (or put on in hopes of working out before getting distracted by a sale on Gilt, a never-ending To Do list and a pile of emails) because I am a gross garbage person...View Article
