Everyone keeps asking about my big plans during this first week with no day job. With no actual place to be since the summer before freshman year of college.
I hear the dreaminess in their questions, How wonderful it would be to never go back to work!
And I have my answer about drinking lots of coffee, or frequenting the library rehearsed, of course. But the truth?
I’ll be working.
It’s not brilliant or glamorous or liberating, but I just willingly took over a 50% pay cut. So, yes. Works starts first fucking thing Monday morning.
(I know because I wrote this at 3 o’clock on Friday, two hours after my last hour in hell.)
I didn’t join the freelance world to fuck off.
Quite the contrary, I joined it to pursue the passion I’ve been neglecting for decades. And passion takes work.
Mary's One Hundred 