It started out fine, and I was glad to have a job, even though I disliked the social stigma of being in such a low-paying position. The moms who dropped off their kids assumed I was just an uneducated person trying to get a paycheck. (And yet I hold two "ivy-league" degrees.) My coworkers were similarly treated (one of whom was a physician in her home country) and it was quite an eye-opener to just how undervalued caregivers can be. But that's beside the point for the moment.

The director of the preschool soon offered me some "after-school" work. I should have known to say "no" because the previous person left after getting stressed out. But, I felt pressured to squeeze out every last dime, and assumed the previous lady's stress was caused by other life events. The gig meant monitoring the school's reservation line. I'd simply call back the parents, confirm their reservation, and give them any additional information as needed. Every morning I'd then fax the respective attendance sheets to the preschool's several locations.

But here is the kicker: I would only be paid for the time I was on the phone or actively compiling the attendance sheets. My vigilance was unpaid.

I figured it wouldn't be a big deal. After all, when there was no phone activity, I'd be free to do whatever else I did around the house: clean, cook, play with my toddler, and so forth. In fact, I already had a part-time job from home doing web-design and accounting for my brother's computer company. It seemed perfect that I could earn a little extra money doing the preschool reservations too.

But if the phone beeped at me that there was a message on the reservation line, it was essentially a "drop everything" situation. No, the parents didn't need to be called back super-immediately, but if a day was full and there was a cancellation, it would be important to receive the cancellation to then allow another kid to come on board, and so forth. I knew that parents were eager to know whether or not their child could come a certain day. After all, I am a parent, too: I understand.

And so I'd stop what I was doing to log somewhere around 2-5 minutes. That's right, I'd willingly halt my previous activity for about a dollar. Sometimes I'd only earn a quarter.

Even if I decided to finish something before checking the messages, my ability to finish my own task was hindered knowing there were messages waiting for me. Working out on my exercise bike wasn't stress-relieving when I kept hearing the phone beep, reminding me that I had work I should be doing. Going to the grocery store meant an hour or two worth of messages would be back at home waiting for me, some from people who expected an answer within 15 minutes. (Oh, the wrath of impatient parents!) The upside to a back-log of messages, though, was that I'd record more time all at once. But even my sleep wasn't restful because I had to wake up early every morning to handle the flurry of activity as parents had last-minute cancellations and last-minute requests to reserve a slot for their child.

I ended up dramatically altering my own activities for very little pay.

Looking back on it now, I am amazed I was so stupid as to accept such a job. And yet, I've done it over and over again. I just don't see it for what it is.

I do a bunch of web work. Some is for regular clients with expected chunks of responsibility, but the work for the more sporadic ones is stressful because the requests tend to be more pressing. Consider an urgent email or phone call from someone on a holiday requiring an immediate fix. (Actually, even the less urgent projects come during "vacations" since that is when various executives have more time to think about what they want changed on their site.) Or, what it feels like to get off a plane to discover that a client had an emergency five hours ago that remains unsolved (and of course the client is furious and frantic*, wondering why it took five hours to do a five minute task.)

Yes, most web clients have tasks that take five minutes. Or maybe 15. The hour-or-more ones are fine because I typically know about them in advance. Most are not urgent, so I can specifically sit down to handle a bunch all at once. But other requests are literally a drop-everything situation. I've taken the 40-minute round-trip drive home from gymnastics to do a thirty-second fix on a website going bonkers. (And yes, I frequently bring my laptop to the gym "just in case" - I should do that always - and yet what does that say about just relaxing without being vigilant?)

It is mentally taxing to know that I can be minding my own business, but suddenly have pressure thrust upon me - get this done now! And yet the payoff is the meager compensation for the time spent actually fixing the problem.

I can go an entire day without any requests. But I've also spent that whole day "plugged in" making sure I'm not needed. I've been vigilant for free.

Five years ago, a web client ruined my Thanksgiving. She expected me to meet an unrealistic deadline, and I should have told her it was impossible. Well, I met the deadline - with great personal cost - but swore I would never do a project for her again. Ever since, other people at the company have handled her requests.

On Tuesday I got an email from her saying that she had emailed two of my coworkers "the day before yesterday" without a response. She just had a "tiny" but urgent change on her site she wanted made ASAP. Oh no. I reluctantly emailed her back - even though it was after standard business hours - to find out what she needed done. If I had waited until the next day to respond, my stomach would have been twisted in knots for longer than it would take to just get the job done. And yet, responding to her that night showed I was still at her beck and call.

She forwarded the email she sent to my coworkers. Turned out she had only emailed them the day before (love it how impatient people stretch the truth) but it did seem that the change would be minor.

I debated whether to wait until the next business day, or tackle the task at 10pm. After realizing that the mental energy of knowing I'd have to deal with it the next day would be more taxing than just getting it done, I did the latter. It took about an hour, but then I was relieved that it was done. But then I delayed my "it's finished!" email until the next day during "standard business hours." Still, I didn't sleep peacefully, because I feared she'd come back at me with yet another "small but urgent" task.

I am fortunate to have great flexibility in most of what I do. I have many terrific clients who don't believe the world revolves around them, and so work for them is truly rewarding. But it is those exceptions who think "just five minutes" really means that I am inconvenienced only for five minutes who wear me down, especially since those five minutes can be required of me at any time.

Vigilance is expensive to me, but pretty much free to those clients!

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*Tangent! One of my "favorite" stories of an impatient client involves a guy who emailed me at 5am EST on a Sunday morning telling me that I had to get his brand-new request done by 9am. Since I am on Pacific time, his order came in at 2am with a 6am deadline. Not surprisingly, I missed his deadline by a mile: I awakened at 10am PST, because after all I wanted to sleep in on a Sunday - how dare I!