I haven’t updated my blog for ages. In fact, I was too busy to even pay a visit at it.  And it was not a lame excuse for “lazy”. For the last month, the translation orders rushed in like snowflakes from everywhere: the internet, my friends, and my company. I knew it might be a one-time shot, so I didn’t want to miss any of them.  Therefore, I dive into any project I could get and I was deeply buried in my work. Pressures were mounting, expectations were high, and the works kept piling up. I was barely left any time for anything else.

Now as I expected, the moment of the order coming after order had passed. Leave me deflated, feeling a kind of vague loss. It’s time for me to slow down a little bit. Looking back, I was glad that I had seized the day.

The only thing I felt upset was about my son. Rule No.1: Never bring work home at weekend. There were times I had broken this rule for some emergency case. Leaving my son in the hand of my husband was not a very good option. My little thing grew so attach to me. He had employed all the ways he could conjure up to attract my attentions, to tear me apart from my work: moans, giggles, gurgles, throwing toys to the floor. As soon as my eyes set on him, his innocent face was immediately split up in a wide smile, and he would reach his plump arms for my hug. To resist such temptation was almost impossible. Sorry, my dear.