I know what you guys are thinking… You’ve read stuff like this before. You saw this coming. Well the struggle, it’s real. I had no idea what leaving my 9-5, monthly paying job would leave me with…. Rather, without.
Yes, I was disappointed. Yes, my life was mundane. Yes, I had to fight with myself to spend time with myself! But it was comfort. It gave me peace. It gave me a fancy chair that took care of my backache! But alas, now all that’s gone away: today I work with my legs dipped in my pool, laptop in hand and a lemonade by my side. Tomorrow I could work at a quaint cafe (that I would have spent nearly two hours locating online). I’ve thought about poverty, I’ve smiled at strangers, I’ve given biscuits to the poor crossing roads.
I’ve been indoors for 6 days in a row now. I spend time playing cards with my parents and catching up on my list of books to read… And, House of Cards, oh my my!
There are moments in between my day when I do sit in front of my laptop, hair tied up high, glasses on and fingers furiously typing…. Stringing sentences together or sourcing for images. “Content curation” I’ve always loved the word, Curate. It has this archeological air to it, makes me sound like one who is in search of “the truth”. The best part? It could be anything I want it to be. Why? Because I’m the curator, of course. Because I have the time I need to dig through the pages and pages of the World Wide Web and find something that the people, who have hired, and hopefully more will soon hire, will be thrilled and overjoyed at its sight. For I am, the Master Curator. (Indiana Jones feel is coming right about now)
But let’s focus on something more “curatable” (for the lack of a better word). It’s another C word that for better or worse, my life depends on.
Having a boss that loved to chew me till my bones ran dry got me prepared with one thing: thick skin. I can handle any amount of absurd work load, sarcastic commentary and sometimes the odd critique on works that didn’t require her feedback (for example, the birthday letter I wrote to her). She taught me how to stand tall, snarling and ready for a fight… My fights usually began and ended with her – today, I have to change my stance. I have to stand down. I have to approach clients who think of me as an equal. I have to learn, that it’s easy to think you have a thick skin but very difficult to actually have one on.
Clients will woo, seduce, bargain and the better ones will even smell the desperation of a freelance writer and all I can do, is wait. Wait and hope, show off my talent; yes, but the most part is in the waiting and hoping.
Waiting for the potential client to reply.
Then soon followed by, hoping the potential client will reply.
For now I can safely say, patience is a good teacher. But sometimes, a good win can also be a good teacher.
Here’s to all those who are hoping and waiting, and waiting and hoping. May our journey be a long one, but a good one: one that if nothing else, can be a good story for those living it with us!
A Freelance Writer.