A recent photo of the author ecstatic to be at the beach
Last September I went the freelance route.
Though it’s been paved with stomach-churning scares (“what do you mean my check is arriving NEXT week?!”) and painful boredom (“maybe I should drive down to Whole Foods and stare at people”), career-wise, I’ve never been happier.
Though I’m not rollin’ in it, the most joyous attribute of going freelance is the amount of time off I have to travel.
My last 9-5 job gave me 5 vacation days a year. Those five days included sick and personal time. Since the company decided to place their business almost an hour outside of Austin, that meant one had to add two extra hours of drive time for a doctor’s or DMV appointment. Personal errands that you could only attend to during the business work week took almost all day to achieve which meant one less vacation day a year. Needless to say, I never felt encouraged to go to the doctor when I needed to.
We also had no bookend days off on important (more…)
Recently, The Austin Post was kind of enough to write a feature on me. It was very sweet of them considering I’m about as interesting as a ADD-tainted squirrel these days.
In the comments someone bemoaned that I “brag too much about my connections” and “whine about turning 30”. I would be lying if I didn’t admit these sort of comments bother the living shit out of me, but I typically get over them in about five minutes (of drinking). Though I don’t think the commenter is correct in that I brag about my connections (having Jeff Goldblum rub his boner up against you doesn’t mean you know him!), it did make me contemplate the nature of over sharing in blogging and social media.
Though I’ve been blogging for over three years now, I’m still learning the rules as to what is too much when it comes to self-promotion. I tended to lean on not broadcasting my accomplishments for my social network to see, but then I realized that most people do. In fact, most people who get ahead do a healthy (more…)
I’ve written a few times on Hipstercrite about how going freelance has improved my career confidence and has been mentally rewarding.
I’ve jokingly talked about how going freelance has made it difficult for me to remember to change my underwear or socialize with humans and not feral cats.
What I haven’t mentioned is that going freelance has amplified my anxieties and worries and at some point I’m concerned I will become agoraphobic.
This all sounds like wonderfully neurotic writer behavior but it is neither fun or helpful. It takes a lot for me to leave the house to socialize and when I do, I’m finding it increasingly difficult to pay attention or engage in conversation. I’ve mentioned this before, so I will not rehash too much. This behavior, which began before I went the freelance route and had decided to take my writing more seriously, has caused me friendships. When I started to stay home at the attempt of being more productive, it angered a few friends. One in particular (more…)
Last night I woke up at 4:30AM and could not go back to sleep. I was wide awake, my brain working a mile a minute. When I used to do this earlier in the year, it was because I was afraid masked men were creeping outside my window, ready to break in. I no longer fear this though oddly enough this happened to my friend last week. Now, now I worry about if I made the right choice. If going freelance is something I can handle without going insane.
The money situation is fine. I have enough steady work to pay the bills. I’m a little concerned that I’m not able to set aside for self-employed taxes yet, but considering I paid taxes for most of the year, I don’t think I’ll have too high of an IRS bill. I’m still adjusting to not getting a paycheck every other Friday, but rather one check here, another check three weeks later, a small check a week later etc. The fear of running out of dough has definitely made me a lot stingier- which I don’t necessarily like to be.
I love everyone that I (more…)
A wise man once told me that the key to being a balanced freelancer is making sure you change out of your pajamas every day.
So far I’ve failed miserably.
Changing clothes, brushing hair, going outside are all things I no longer know how to do.
Instead of telling you about my now two months as a freelancer, I thought I would show you in pictures.
Coffee no longer relieves headaches- it gives headaches
When you can no longer sit at your desk out of fear you will develop atrophy, watering dead plants is your only solace.
“Did I change my underwear yet today?” she wonders…
Staring at the ceiling fan pondering if you might die from lack of social interaction.
Going outside and looking for feral cats in the neighborhood because you’re not sure what else to do.
Excited to finally have time to cook but end up heating up peanut butter with stuff.
Standing outside the window questioning whether you’ll ever being a human being again.
|this stock photo came up when i googled “freelance”- obviously all freelancers are ex-businesspeople whose life choice banished them to walking the desert alone with birds
I’ve discovered the secret to losing ten pounds instantly: become a freelancer and live in constant state of fear.
Last week was my first week ever not working a 9-5.
It was exciting and terrifying and freeing and exhausting.
I’ve been working towards this goal both subconsciously and finally consciously for the past eight years. Now that it is finally here, I’m like, “Dear Mother of God! I’m a woman on the loose!” I enjoy the analogy that @bbrosmarty shared with me: “We liken it to becoming a wild animal. You’re free from the zoo- but you have to find your own dinner.” Does this mean I’ll have to grow my nails out and sharpen my teeth now?
Earlier this year as my freelance writing began to pick up I finally came to the conclusion that these 9-5 office jobs were getting old. Even when I worked (more…)
There comes a point in every young person’s life where they have to make the jump.
Have to because they can’t kid themselves that they’re happy with the safe route anymore. Working jobs that mean nothing to them and waking up every morning trying to kid themselves that they care. Ignoring the hunger pains of a creative appetite gnawing away at them.
“But life is sometimes about working jobs that you don’t like!” the age-old sentiment kept cycling through my head. “But not if I have any say it!” I finally answered back one day. Last week. When I realized that now was the time.
I was born from a musician and an artist. One took the safe route her entire life and regrets it, the other jumped on the Autobahn to creative anarchy. My father tried going the safe route- which included marriage, kid, and steady employment- but ultimately he couldn’t handle the confines. Do I blame him? No. Because I’m just like him. “And that scares me,” my mother can often be found saying. But we live (more…)