Tending the Freelance Garden: a Little Water Goes a Long Way

Aside from the fact that he seems content in flashing his cute little rump to anyone within eye-shot, how many of you don’t feel like this kid some days? Short limbs, teeny tiny hose, big-ass garden to tend to: metaphor for your life too, or is it just working for me?

I received a lovely pamphlet from the village yesterday containing a report of all the fun chemicals in our town water supply, in addition to a complicated spreadsheet of who is allowed to water their lawns on which days, between which times, and with what types of hoses. (I’d love to be kidding.) All I can say is the village should take this moment to thank a variety of gods that I don’t own property, a lawn, or a sprinkling system of any type. Because rules? I’m all for breaking them. In fact, if I had a hose I’d probably be walking up and down my street right now looking for some water sources to tap into in pure defiance. (Specifically, because the cost of these fancy-ass pamphlets could have been put toward — oh, I don’t know — saving a really big rain forest somewhere.)

The absolute BEST part of the pamphlet was the part where they went on-and-on-and-on about the conservation of natural resources. Included were tips on how to brush one’s teeth without running water, as well as how to do laundry in a bucket. I’m seriously considering writing to the folks in charge and asking them to have their heads examined. Last I checked, we were spending tens of thousands of dollars to build (plastic) playgrounds in the (rich) part of town so the (spoiled) kids (who spend all day playing video games) would have some place to play (even though now that the parks have been built no one plays there). Fast-forward two months, and we are apparently very earth-conscious and so poor we can’t afford water. (Yet a lovely field nearby is being plowed over down the street where a new subdivision is being erected.)

But I digress.

The whole thing got me thinking about gardens — and how I’ve always sort of wished I had a garden. Except for that whole part about how I can’t grow plants because I kill them, and I like weeds too much to pull them up, I think I’d be really cool with a garden. I could sit in one, maybe have a little pond of fishes, and watch the butterflies. And my bunnies could eat some cabbage — assuming I could grow cabbage, which I cannot. Folks over the years have told me I could learn to garden if I practiced. I’m pretty sure that’s a huge lie, but I don’t have the patience to find out.

My father used to say the secret to keeping plants alive is not to over-water. I am starting to wonder if his theories about gardening also might apply to the whole freelance life.

A little water goes a long way.

I tend to be OCD. I over-think everything, obsess over stupid shit, make my clients think I’m the most indispensable person on the planet, and workworkwork myself into a state of burnout I have trouble bringing myself back from. Big fire. Little hose.

My new plan: learn to tend the freelance garden with less water. Clients don’t need me to respond to their emails at 3am (even if they think I do). Blogs don’t require five new posts per day, and comments don’t need to be immediately responded to (even if the Blog Gods might disagree with me). Not every new job lead has to be followed up on, especially when I don’t need any new work at the moment. Must conserve resources. Must learn to let the plants live.