In search of inner peace (?)

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5:22am: Coffeeeeeeeee! Eyes feeling like the bottom of a parrot’s cage, husband is up, talking to dogs and feeling chirpy and happy it’s another day.  I hate morning people. Three-year-old is asleep beside me – sometime in the night, she’s inveigled her way into our bed. There’s something so beautiful about sleeping children. Little wretch is a duvet thief.

6:10am: All dogs and other two kids awake, one practising the piano already. And he needs practice. I reach for a Panado.

6:13am: The phone – it’s the printer. She has an uncanny ability to know when I’m awake. “Good morrrnnnninggg!” (I can hear the smile in her voice. Did I mention I hate morning people?) “So have you got something for me?” I put her off. By 8, I promise, I promise. Waiting for sign-off from client. Wonder briefly if I can phone client at 6:14 but decide against it.  She’s new and last communication was 11pm last night.

7:20am: Usual rush to get to three schools on time. Intricate argument about marbles, hairstyles and seating positions in the car. Their resourcefulness and creativity in finding things to fight about would be impressive if it weren’t so irritating…. Tell children they are not allowed look at one another. They need to live a “gratitude attitude”! (Ok, even as I am saying those words, they sound flaky. I can tell right away the kids think so too.) Try to resume spelling lesson with eight-year-old and philosophical conversation about the pitfalls of entrepreneurship with 11-year-old. (We can only presume the dog has just eaten all the fudge she made last night for Market Day.  It has disappeared without a trace, little plastic bags and all.)

8:10am: Two children on time, one late. Not too bad. Stop at Seattle Coffee on way to work. They have stopped their buy 10, get one free campaign, which I take rather personally. The printer calls again, sounding a little flustered. “Do you have a disc for me?” I fob her off.

10am: 36 emails later, a few grumbling staff jollied along, and the client has promised to sign off proofs three times now but still nothing. Business partner, also known as “Purse Strings”, has instituted scary new measures, including insisting all spending on company credit card is pre-authorised. Seattle Coffee purchases have not escaped her attention. Mutter mutter.

10:05am: Reflect briefly on inner peace and how to achieve it. Hmmmm. Check instead on how many people have had their Scrabble turn on Facebook. Thirteen people waiting for me to play. Have lost 66.9% of all games ever played online. And I’m a journalist. My phone is ringing. Bet that’s the printer again.

11.25am: Swimming gala, C Team. Wish I’d brought my laptop. While talking on the phone to potential new client nearly miss brief few minutes while daughter is actually in the pool (they all look the same in red swimming costumes and caps), but look up just in time.

12:56pm: Contract drafted for communications work for a secret government agency. Wish I could tell someone more about this…

1:20pm: Realise I’ve forgotten my three-year-old at school. Granny Jill has delivered her home. I am a useless mother.

1:45pm: Quote accepted to train South Africa’s entire Kaizer Chiefs soccer team in dealing with the media. I know nothing about soccer.

2:47pm: Passing thought: I really need to exercise. Proofread an annual report instead.

3:56pm: It’s the printer. She’s close to tears.

3:58pm: Receive call from another client who threatens to fire us because we haven’t done the work she requires. I threaten to fire her back because she hasn’t paid us for anything. She backs down. I walk into the accountant’s office to find out that we’ve never actually sent her any invoices, so couldn’t reasonably have ever expected payment.  Oops.

4:10pm: The phone again, but not the printer. It’s my 11-year-old’s teacher. She says my daughter has given her some ridiculous excuse about the dog eating her homework and she needs me to make an appointment with herself and the headmistress.

4:13pm: Just musing how I am going to be in Cape Town and Durban at the same time tomorrow. Really must try to change one of the tickets; which one?

4:56pm: The printer is in tears. I do my best to say something helpful but fail. “It’s not your fault, honestly. It’s this client, she keeps changing her mind.” But I need to spur her on. I don’t want her to fire us, and anyway, I know she loves the adrenaline too, deep down. “She’s a new client, so we’ve got to do our best for her. She promised me sign-off in 10 minutes. Just do your best, like you always do. No-one can expect anything more!” (Knowing full well I do.)

5:13pm: Have a quick go on Scrabble. Putrid. My sister is beating me again and she is a graphic designer for goodness’ sake. Can’t believe aal, noil and slived are actual words.

6:00pm: The phone. Maybe I should just get rid of it all together. It’s my husband. Are you coming home for supper? Yes, yes, just finishing off. Read 15 new emails and rush to Woolies to buy three new pairs of white school socks. Pick up dog food on the way. Can’t they make this stuff in bags that weigh less than 20kg yet feed the dogs for a month?

6:48pm: Further ponder. I’m addicted to chaos. And guess what, I like my life. I have a wonderful family, home and colleagues at work. I feel fulfilled in my job (if a little stressed at times), and love going to work each day. I love living in Joburg where there’s always a buzz and a can-do attitude, and the people are cool and things happen. I don’t want inner peace. There, I’ve got it out. And so what!

6:57pm: The phone again. Client has signed off, and is happy. “Your team has done a wonderful job!” she enthuses. “And so fast! Do you people ever sleep?” If only she knew. Printer is happy. Tomorrow is another day. Late for supper.

7:13pm: Reading with my eight-year-old, a special time of day. It’s his favourite, a little-known masterpiece by Dr Seuss, entitled Green Pants With No-One Inside Them. It’s about not being afraid of the unknown. Most appropriate.

7:46pm: Off to novel writing class but not much point as I haven’t done my homework. My principle character writes me a letter pleading with me to get a life so she can have one. Console myself with a large glass of red wine.

10:06pm: The house is quiet and I can finally do some work. Research e-marketing strategy for large South African city. Go big or go home. Must try to remember toothbrush in the morning to avoid finding a 7/11 at 7am in Cape Town again.

12:05am: Fall into bed. Read a few pages of The Ten Faces of Innovation: Strategies for heightening creativity. Inner peace? Maybe tomorrow …

Tara Turkington is the CEO of Flow Communications and a mother of three, not necessarily in that order.

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