“It’s not easy being a mom. If it were easy, fathers would do it.” — Betty White
Rachel
“Not like that.” Rachel Gibson shook her head even though her client couldn’t see her. “Don’t be afraid. You can’t mess it up. Do it just like I showed you. Once it’s aligned, then slip it right in. Boom. Done.”
She glanced at the digital clock on the top corner of her laptop.
Crap, crap, crap. She was so late. A-freaking-gain.
She normally didn’t take clients in her bedroom, but she’d turned off the camera, so it wasn’t a big deal.
“I think I’ve almost got it,” the deep male voice assured in a tone that was not assuring.
Rachel stilled, took a deep breath, and did her absolute best to relax the tension from her shoulders.
Perfection is not measured by degrees. It is created by degrees. She played the mantra over in her head. This particular adage was the extent of the philosophical genes making up Rachel’s DNA. Seeing that most of her genetics came from a family who preferred to crack jokes at inappropriate times to deflect from thoughtful conversation, it was a miracle she’d inherited any deep thoughts.
That said, this philosophical saying was her go-to in the reality of her daily activities as the owner, manager, and only employee of her very own virtual personal assistant company. Also, as a mom to her two boys. Twins.
Anyway, perfection was within her grasp, degree by degree—if she could simply keep her shit together.
Or get her shit together. Either way.
She let out a sigh, watching her client’s progress on the screen. This client was in California, so their time zones were close. Rachel was in Denver, and thanks to the beauty of the internet, she could work virtually with clients nearly anywhere. Although the new Australia client was starting to seriously cost her on missed sleep.
“Darn,” he said. Once again, he fudged the design. Perfection would not happen for him with this graphic design lesson.
“Just line it up,” Rachel encouraged. “Don’t overthink.”
Most days, her uncanny ability to find solutions to client issues was outweighed only by her inability to deal with her own crap. Sometimes she even considered taking up the joke-cracking schtick that worked so well for her brothers and parents.
“I can’t get it. I’m telling you,” he replied, frustration lacing his tone.
Man, she did not have time for this. She had to get out the door. They’d need to reschedule for later, which stunk because she didn’t have time later.
Hell, she didn’t have time now.
“Okay, wait, I think I did it.” James sounded as relieved as she felt.
Thank goodness. She glanced at his work-in-progress on the screen of her laptop. Oh, thank, thank, thank goodness. Yes, he had it. She released a long breath.
“I can’t believe I got it.” He laughed, switching the video monitor from the graphic design program on the screen to his webcam. “You’re the best, Rachel.”
He gave her two thumbs up.
Even though he couldn’t see her, Rachel couldn’t help it…she smiled. One more happy client. She’d been working with him for the past hour so he could create his own graphics for his start-up company. He’d finally figured out how to copy and paste and now he knew how to move the images around. Perfection by degrees. Her motto in process.
“I’ll practice some more and then we can chat in a few days,” he said, the pleased tone of his words causing that bloom of pride she adored so much in her job.
“Let me know if you need anything else,” Rachel said, raising her voice into the speaker of the MacBook placed precariously on the edge of her dresser. She’d set down the computer so she could simultaneously apply her eye makeup while observing his progression on the screen.
They said their goodbyes, and she closed the laptop. Then she yawned. Last night had been another doozy. Could she get away with crawling into bed to sleep for the next eight hours? No. She could not.
Because the load of shit that needed to be done would not do itself.
That was the answer to that.
Accepting her newest client (the Australia guy) was the perfect supplement to her income. Unfortunately, she’d never been good at pulling all-nighters. Not even when she’d been an undergrad or when her twins were teeny tiny, itsy-bitsy, cutie patootie babies.
One step at a time, one project at a time, one client at a time, she was making all the things happen all the time. After all, the difference between boiling water