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Switching It Up

This past Friday marks the one-year anniversary that I left my full-time job to pursue freelance work as a writer, community manager and big old bucket of random-odd jobs-er.  It’s been great and I’ve learned a lot.  But after one year, I hang my full-time freelance hat on the rack of tried-its.  For anyone that is looking to to do freelance work, just know that only a third or less of your time will be spent doing the actual craft – the actual skill you were hired to perform.  The majority of your time is spent in marketing, customer service, follow-ups, tracking every single dime for a tax-write-off and the list goes on.  That’s a lot of hats for one person.  Some people are built for it.  I am not some people.  But damn, do I have a fond respect for the some people.

See, I knew this not-so-secret-posted-on-every-freelance-blog fact but I had to try it for myself.  I always have to find out for myself, like the time Ada told me not to touch the iron when she went to answer the phone.  “Don’t touch that, Bridget, it’s really hot.”  I heard her, but warnings die right before they hit the reasoning part of my brain.  Or “Don’t shave your legs, Bridget, you’ll cut yourself!”  But I did — right before my first communion.  She was so pissed she threatened to make me wear “slacks” instead of buying me a dress.  I told her I wanted to be perfect for Jesus.  Jesus, I never learn.  She was right by the way, it was hot.  All the freelance blogs were right too – it is mostly doing things that have nothing to do with your skill.

It’s not the only reason I am looking to pursue full-time work again.  Here are some others:

1.) Working with a team is better than working alone

Again, I knew this about myself, but I had to find out for sure by trying it.  If you are the type of person that gets completely submerged in a project and doesn’t realize that the entire day has gone by and have little need for collaboration, then freelance work might be a great career choice. Ada and Frank started to screen my calls for my 10 a.m. brief chat sessions.

"Excuse me, can you watch my computer so that when I get back I'll have a reason to pursue a friendship with you?"

2.) My product wasn’t strong enough

Steve Jobs and Walter White have something in common – they both made a solid product.  And they both got people high.  (Seriously, have you heard Mac-users talk about their Macs?  If they could liquify it and inject it into their arm, they would.)  Freelance writers, especially, will tell you that you have to be an expert in a certain area of writing so that you can sell it.  Your product needs to have a clear shape.  My product was too amorphous for any marketing plan.  Besides, the topic of which I’m an expert is TheBridgeBeat.  Now, if only I could find a way to sell my personal musings for a legitimate career.  Jersey Shore kids did it and so did Bob Ross.

GTL's got nothing on Bob. Little Happy Trees, b**ches

3.) My social circle has become stay-at-home-moms.

They are the group of people that can grab a cup of coffee at 3 p.m. on a Tuesday when you start to twitch from lack of human interaction.  Stay-at-home moms feel the same twitch too.  But here’s the difference:  freelancers check their phones at the coffee table, SAHMs sniff their baby’s butt at the table.  “Oh yep, he pooped.”  Check please!  (I’m just saying – our priorities are different.)

Put your face in it, Mommy!

4.) Stay-at-home-dog-mom isn’t my favorite title

During the down times, when contracts have ended and you can’t see the next one on the horizon, you have to be ok with whatever that day brings.  Sometimes I am and sometimes I want to wear a sign that says, “No really, I am a contributing member of society, I’m just in a lull and well, I think if I can just secure a contract and…” but there’s never enough poster space and people aren’t interested in your “freelance” problems.

"Hey Toby, what do you think of this sentence...Oh, sorry clearly you're busy."

5.) Time spent trying to define my work distracted me from doing the very thing that made me pursue freelance in the first place – writing!

Stay tuned.  As I journey into the full-time work search, I have already experienced jarring discoveries.

Anniversary Dinner

Sir Opti and I celebrated our 2-year anniversary last month.  My sweet mom-in-law gifted us with a restaurant certificate and we decided to get some fancy fondue at Gejas Cafe.  Our waiter informed us about the menu like a flight attendant giving his 1,541st safety demonstration: lifeless and anticipating either death or the end of his shift.

By the way, is that how waiting tables is for a fixed menu restaurant?  You serve the same things in the same way every time, everyday.  Does that eventually bleed the life out of you?  Is that for every service industry job?  Curious minds want to know.  I did catering in college and it was one of my least favorite experiences.  I also have no wrist balance ability so I cannot serve glasses off of a round serving tray.  The last time I tried, I spilled champagne on a mentally handicapped woman.  “Sorry ’bout that,” I said picking up the glass from her lap as if I had spilled champagne glasses into the laps of the disabled my whole life, “you ok?”  She nodded.  I left and I didn’t come back. To that table.  To that job.  To that industry.

Moving on, despite the waiter’s lack luster done better only by 17-year-old boys, Sir Opti and I enjoyed our dinner.  “Seafood needs 2 minutes to cook, steak needs about 4 minutes to cook.  Ok?  Great.  Thanks,” said the waiter as he exited on cue like a script he had been performing for way too long.  We were left to indulge in this gluteanous feast that would make any other respectful member of the human species scoff in shame and disgust.  But we are people of comedy, we have no shame.  We dove in, salivating faces first.  Here’s how nerdy we are – the waiter gave  us a time frame to cook and we didn’t want to lose track of our cuisine’s readiness.  So Sir Opti and I put out our smart phones, opened the timer and timed our food:

Gejas: We Accept Visa, Master Card and Nerds.

As we stuffed our faces with delicious fondue, we talked about our past and what we were like in high school:

Me: Do you remember when we not only didn’t have cell phones, but had to rely on our parents to give us messages from people who called while we were gone?

Sir Opti:  Yeah, good thing we don’t have to deal with that anymore.

Me:  I remember when boys first started to take interest in me, I used to be super adamant with my parents, “if you are on the other line, you HAVE to pick up call waiting.”  They would ask me, “why who is supposed to call?”  And in that bitchy teen tone that is innately adopted at puberty I said, “Just someone, I don’t know, someone OK?  Can you please please just answer the phone?”

Sir Opti:  Hm.

Me:  Don’t you remember that?

Sir Opti: Yes.  I used to do the same thing.  I wanted to make sure my parents weren’t even on the phone.

Me:  Cause you were excited for a girl to call you?

Sir Opti:  No, because I wanted to get online to download computer games.  We only had dial up.

Me:  (silence.  I check the readiness of my oil-boiled sirloin)

Sir Opti:  I’m sure that does not surprise you.

Me:  Nope. (insert sirloin piece into mouth.  give a mouth-closed grin)

Sir Opti:  There were so many cool games, babe.

Me:  There were so many boys I would love to have like me.  So you didn’t get excited about calling girls?

Sir Opti:  I didn’t call girls.

Me:  Hm.  I can see that I guess. (look at smart phone)  I think your shrimp is done.

Sir Opti:  (said with a child-like expression) YES!  Oh hey, I just downloaded the new Mac operating system.  It’s really awesome.  You should get it, I think you’d like the new features on it.  It had a three-finger pinch function now instead of a 4-finger pinch function!  I mean it still has the four finger but now it had three!  It’s so cool!!

Everything we wished for in high school, we got.  I found a boy who likes me and he found a way to always download the greatest technology for his computer.  I guess we don’t change that much do we?

I love you, sweetie.

I love you, mobile apps of all kind.

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