The secret to waiting tables is that you have to be just present enough to accomplish whatever you’re doing at the moment (like taking an order), while simultaneously mentally prepping for the next one or two or three things you have to do (like dropping the check off at table 51, restocking the ketchup, and grabbing that extra sour cream for table 52).
If you get into the weeds (this is restaurant parlance for having more to do than you can handle at one time), it’s easiest to get yourself out by asking for help. But it is frequently possible, in my experience, to get out without help. You just have to speed everything up, and not drop anything, and all the cards have to fall just right (i.e., if the lady at 53 wants her burger recooked, you’re screwed).
The hardest thing about applying these principles to freelance writing isn’t that you don’t have a bunch of coworkers around to help. It’s that you have way more distractions than you would while waiting tables. When you’re waiting table, there are no internet or cats who want to be played with or clients who need some tweaks made to a job you turned in two months ago. (You also don’t have to take breaks to exercise, if you work at a busy enough place.) It is much easier to remain focused when you’re waiting tables, and when your shift ends, you don’t have any more work to worry about till next time.
Basically, the same fundamental techniques apply, but the difference in environment has a huge impact on how the same brain pursues tasks, and the timing of everything is way different. It’s a much more complicated dance. And a more frustrating one, sometimes, but overall more interesting, and I suppose that is the direction life is generally supposed to move in. Maybe more not-so-deep thoughts along these lines later, when I’m out of the weeds.
Maybe you should hire a manager who wears shit kickers and threatens to through you out on the street if you don’t get your work done. Oh, and make sure your inform is clean while you do it.
uniform is clean.