Oh That Pesky Little Freelance Life

Ah life as a writer in the woods. The solitude. The scenery. Just me and the laptop, setting my own schedule, typing away when I please.

Or at least, when I wrapped up full-time, out of the house work in mid-October, this is what I thought my winter would be like.

Sometimes I suspect that Andy thinks I spend my time lounging around in my pajamas, drinking coffee, taking multiple naps, eating bonbons, my focus trained chiefly on what to make for supper. While I admit I'm still in my pajamas as I type this, the truth is that I've also wrapped a freelance project this morning and will tackle another project shortly. My weekly hours are in for another job, I'll have to work on another project over the weekend.

Back in the summer, before I started this whole working from home business, I assumed my winter days would basically revolve around my whims. Sure there would be things that needed to get done, but I could tackle them on my own pace. I didn't need to worry about any set schedule: things would flow along at their own accord and get accomplished in due time. 

In November, it became apparent that the days were a'flowing, but nothing was getting done. No matter how I played my cards, it seemed like there was always something I hadn't gotten around to. So I sat down last week and wrote out everything that needs to get done in a week while Andy's off at work.  (Because let's be honest: nothing gets done when Andy's around.) Low and behold if, I counted all the writing work I mean to get done, I was looking at a 40-hour week. A 40-hour week of getting out of bed at approximately the same time every day, working all morning, taking a lunch break, working until a set time in the afternoon. What the heck? When am I supposed to get my knitting done?!

The worse part? I have not written something that I a)didn't get paid for, or b)doesn't somehow concern my personal existence in the woods for a very, very long time. Like months. Fiction writing has gone out the window. Hmmm, hard to be anything more than an aspiring novelist if you're not actually writing anything that resembles a novel. So today, today is a writing day. Not a freelance writing day but a day for characters and fictional scenarios. Once the last little project is finished, I'm shoving aside the truly "paying" work for the day. 

I love the freelance life, really I do. But it's starting to look an awful lot like work.