Focus, woman.
I pull up my master file, the one I should have organized last week, and start the desperate search for the right background templates.Mr.Jameson wants "corporate but approachable" for his presentation to the board.Whatever that means.
Suddenly, my stomach growls, reminding me I skipped breakfast.Again.I grab a protein bar from my desk drawer and take a bite of what tastes like cardboard with chocolate chips.Ah, the glamorous life of a virtual assistant.
Why do I eat this shit?Ugh.
"Focus, focus, focus," I remind myself, clicking through slide templates that all look the same after a while.Blue with graphs?Gray with bullet points?The exciting choices are endless.
My phone buzzes again.Heather, obviously.
He has a TATTOO on his back.Some kind of writhing serpent thing.I'm investigating what it means.
I ignore the text and instead open another browser tab, searching for "corporate but approachable presentation templates" like my life depends on it.Because it basically does.My freelance virtual assistant business has been my lifeline since I quit my soul-crushing office job last year.The freedom is amazing, but the chaos?Not so much.I've always prided myself on being organized, a responsible woman who had her life together.But lately, I've been dropping balls left and right.
"One crisis at a time," I tell myself, selecting a sleek gray template with subtle blue accents.Mr.Jameson's favorite colors.I'm not completely hopeless.
My phone buzzes again.This time it's not Heather but a notification from my calendar app."IMPORTANT: Send invoice to Haraldsen Group!!!"
Oh shit.That was due yesterday.
I quickly switch tasks, pull up the Haraldsen invoice, and start filling in the hours I've worked for them over the past two weeks.My brain feels like it's splitting in two as I toggle between this urgent task and Mr.Jameson's presentation.Multitasking at its most desperate.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry," I mumble to no one, calculating my hours and trying not to think about how unprofessional it is to be late with an invoice.The Haraldsen Group is one of my steadiest clients, and I can't afford to lose them.
My phone rings again.Unknown number.I hesitate, then answer it because at this point, what's one more catastrophe?
I clear my throat."Gretchen Carver speaking.How may I help you?"
"Ms.Carver?"a raspy male voice asks.
"Yes, that's me."
"I need your services desperately.Can you handle a rush job?I'll pay any price."
Desperation never sounds like a great opportunity.But I could use a cash infusion, so...I force my voice to sound professional despite my sweaty palms."The price depends on the job and the timeline.What exactly do you need?"
"A complete website overhaul by tomorrow morning.Our developer quit without notice, and we have investors coming."
I do some quick math.Jameson's presentation is due at six, the Haraldsen invoice is already late, and now this other person wants me to rebuild an entire website overnight?I should say no.I absolutelyshouldsay no.
"What's your budget?"I hear myself asking instead.
"Triple your normal rate."
My fingers freeze over the keyboard.Triple rate?That would cover next month's rent with plenty left over.Maybe even enough for that digital planner system I've been eyeing that promises to organize my chaotic life.
I shut my eyes briefly, then clear my throat as I jot down the client's information."I'll see what I can do and get back to you this evening."
"Thank you so much, Ms.Carver."
I hang up and confirm I have the website URL and access credentials as promised.Then I sit here for a moment, staring blankly at my screen.Did I really just agree to another impossible deadline?
I drop my head into my hands."You're out of your freaking mind, Gretchen."
Then I turn back to Jameson's presentation.
For the next hour, I'm in the zone, fingers flying across the keyboard, brain on fire, pulling together charts and graphs that actually look semi-professional.I'm about to reach for my water bottle when my phone starts vibrating with an incoming call from...
