When I was asked to write a short piece on motivation for a professional editors' newsletter, I was flattered. I'd been given a deadline a month in the future so I didn't worry about putting other projects in front of it. Important undertakings, like cleaning appliances and organizing tee shirts in the bedroom closet by color.
     Four or five years ago, I read a how-to book that said writers have the cleanest refrigerators of anyone. I had tsk-tsked and said, "Not me. I'd never put off writing for household chores." It wasn't long before I learned the author had been telling the truth. I was working on a writing assignment that had gotten tricky and the first thing I did was head for the fridge. Somewhere between scrubbing crisper bins and wiping off glass shelves, a light bulb came on: Now, I could call myself a real writer.
     When I made my living selling cars, I had to be charged up. The sales manager's office had a huge board—in plain sight of every employee and customer who walked into the building—with each salesperson's name on it. Every time we sold a vehicle, a big "X" went next to our name. That chart, plus the fear of no paycheck at the end of the month, spelled MOTIVATION in capital letters.
     When you work at home as a freelance writer, though, you spend less money on dry cleaning, transportation and lunch. But you can't turn your back on an unmade bed, walk out the door and drive off to an office. With only a few yards separating the kitchen from the desk, it is difficult to ignore unwashed breakfast dishes and piles of dirty clothes that beg for attention. And motivation hides behind distraction.
     Like the ringing telephone which can't be neglected because it could be an editor calling. But usually isn't. And the newspaper and crossword puzzle which I say are tools to jump start my brain. Like e-mail messages I check in hopes an editor has sent something. Soon, I'm reading (and answering) messages from friends. This leads to perusing online gossip sites. From there, it's a short distance to www.freerice.com, the Web site that builds vocabulary skills (I call it job training.) and donates rice to help end world hunger.
     By now, it's already noon and if my stomach isn't growling, the dog's is. I fill her bowls with food and water and slap some peanut butter on rye crackers for myself. Green tea is always nice, too. While the water's boiling, I make the bed and throw towels in the washing machine. Fold the dark clothes languishing in the dryer and put them away so they won't distract me when I'm writing. Which reminds me: Family Feud is on at 3:30. That show, and Jeopardy! an hour later, are my afternoon brain workouts.
     Soon, it's time to start dinner. While I'm scrubbing and chopping veggies, I can do some serious thinking about the article on motivation. That's the good thing about working at home—there's no manager and no progress chart. But there's always another day. Unfortunately, a month of new days has passed and my deadline is…Egads! Tomorrow.