I have to admit that lately I've been fortunate. Ever since I returned from my unexpected sabbatical, caring for my mother in February, I've been pretty much swamped with work. Which is a good thing, seeing as how the State of California didn't take kindly to my absence. I wasn't getting my mail and didn't return my unemployment forms in a timely matter, and when I returned, they had cut me off.
But not to worry. The day after I returned, I picked up a really great local client and the work has been steady ever since. And the best thing about them is they pay quickly. I turn in an invoice and two days later, I get a check. It's like magic. I'm used to waiting four months to be paid, so it's a little disorienting. I've picked up some other local work, but if I can just score a couple other large clients we may actually start being OK.
I still get the occasional project out of Hollywood, but at this point it's really nothing more than an afterthought. That industry is still reeling from the one/two punch of the recession and the sudden and drastic switch from traditional advertising to the online space. Although many say the economy is showing signs of recovering, in the Hollywood ad world the carnage continues unabated. Just last Friday, one of the oldest and largest agencies unexpectedly closed their doors, dumping over 100 competitors into an already over-saturated freelance market.
There have been a couple of unfortunate side effects of my relatively recent success.
For one, I think I'm becoming agoraphobic.
I almost never leave the house. All my work is handled online, all my communication with the outside world through e-mail. Projects are uploaded and downloaded without any human interaction. I sit in my little office cave and seldom leave. Oh sure, I still walk the dogs. It's the only time I actually see the sun. But those are just little quick spins around the neighborhood and usually the only soul we see is Jim weaving around the neighborhood on his beach cruiser, Jack and coke in hand. Actually, the only time I venture out into the real world is for a random run to the market or my daily trip to the corner gas station for smokes. In fact, if I didn't smoke, I might go days without any human interaction. It puts me in an odd position: if I continue to smoke, I'll probably die of lung cancer. But is I quit, I'll probably go insane. Six of one, half a dozen of the other.
That's not to discount the boyfriend. Of course I see him every evening. But he works such long hours, when he comes home in the evening he isn't much the conversationalist. It's usually a dinner of Helper, a little TV and then off to bed. We try an make up for it on the weekends, but it still leaves the weekdays pretty lonesome.
Which brings up the other side effect: I'm quickly losing my social skills. With no human interaction, I now get frazzled on the rare occasion the phone rings. On a day to day basis, the only people I talk to, and they're people to me, are the dogs. Needless to say, the way you speak to dogs and the way you speak to adult humans is demonstratively different, and at the rate I'm going I run the risk of telling one of my clients he's a "good boy".
Luckily, I'll get a chance to re-enter polite society and refresh my skills this weekend. We're blowing out of town later today to spend Easter with the family. I suppose that means I'll have to shave and ditch my casual Unibomber work look. I'm sure the boyfriend will appreciate that. Easter is the time of rebirth, and for me that means getting reacquainted with shoes.
