 Y’know that saying, “Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it?” Boy oh boy, did I get it. In this case, I’m talking about some work-related successes that came to pass last week.
I set a goal at the beginning of the year (barely three months ago, for anyone who doesn’t want to do the math) of scoring some recurring retainer business rather than continuing to operate on a project-to-project basis like I’ve been doing since I started this freelance gig in September 2012. “Retainer” means that I have clients on contract who pay me a set amount per month to do everything from event management to PR/marketing and social media. In a perfect world, these contracts are for a term of no less than six months. Up to now, I have been fortunate to garner plenty of work each month, I just never knew what it would be or where it would come from. It’s a precarious way to do business, but I had mentally prepared myself for the ebbs and flows of an unpredictable workload before I set out on my own.
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 I don’t drink. I don’t smoke. I work out four to five times a week. I regularly care for my mental, spiritual and emotional health. I go to bed right after Jimmy Fallon’s monologue every night and get plenty of sleep.
I am boring as hell. The only vices I have left are caffeine and sugar. I love good coffee and milk chocolate. Sometimes together. Up until recently, I had no reason or desire to give either one up. Then I had the brilliant idea to start working with a new personal trainer. Who promptly told me I had to give up sweets — and any added sugar — for four weeks. The rat bastard. So for the past 10 days, I have taken the sugar out of my coffee (I’m keepin’ the damn coffee, though), and the candy, ice cream and cake out of my diet. He has given me some pretty strict guidelines on what I can eat and when, and I have to report in several times a day via text message.  Have you noticed the sudden prevalence of news articles, quizzes and other social media discussing the qualities of introverts vs. extroverts?
Yeah, me too. For years, I thought that being an introvert denoted a shy (even anti-social) wallflower. Someone who is outgoing and confident in a crowd has to be an extrovert, then, right? Not so much. A friend who has done some pretty extensive research into the nuances of the two “verts” recently explained to me the basic difference between them, and it’s not what I expected. The divergence apparently lies in the way that each one recharges his or her batteries: An extrovert needs to go out amongst the throngs to refresh his spirits, while an introvert seeks out quiet time alone to rejuvenate herself. Hmm. Well then, despite being self-assured, friendly and unafraid to engage random strangers in conversation, by this definition, I am an introvert at heart.  The soundtrack of my life is very eclectic, and it’s constantly evolving. If you saw the playlists on my iTunes, you would probably question whether I was a teenage break dancer or a senior citizen. Srsly.
These days, I find myself listening to a lot of techno and dance music, but that’s mostly by happenstance. See, I participate in a wide variety of fitness classes (boot camp, strength and interval training, cycling), and nearly all of them are set to the songs of Lady Gaga, Rihanna, Pit Bull, and a bunch of other odd-named Top 40 performers I had never heard of until I started suffering through burpees, deadlifts and squats along with the driving beats of their music. When I am not trying to keep up with my insanely fit instructors or stay on pace during a short run through in my neighborhood, I don’t seek out that kind of music. I mean, it’s great to keep me motivated during a workout, but I have no desire to hear “Timber” pulsing on my iPod when I’m trying to edit a book on estate planning law. Anyway, the above diatribe was intended to illustrate that I am open to ANY genre of music, under the right circumstances.  So I jumped off the cliff, and I didn’t fall on my ass. In fact, I landed pretty damn softly on my feet.
See, it was one year ago this week that I walked out of the corporate world and into the ranks of the self-employed. One whole year of no one telling me where to be or what to do. One full, blissful year of crafting a career on my own terms. Best. Decision. Ever. I hope I never have to get a real job again. You can read about my journey here and here. To sum up, I had been freelancing on the side for the prior six months, during which time I worked hard to lay the groundwork for a successful leap from a steady paycheck to sporadic income. I had created an LLC, launched this website, and built a referral network and nominal book of business to get my own little entrepreneurial ball rolling. When I quit my full-time gig, my economic scenario was not optimal to start a business. But it was decent, and I found myself at the crossroads of Piss Avenue and Get Off The Pot Drive. I had gotten too busy to do two jobs well, so I closed my eyes, crossed my fingers and threw myself off the ledge. I am SO grateful that I didn’t go “splat.” |
About Amy HiggsA former newspaper columnist, Amy takes her random, slice-of-life stories to the web. After 12 years, she's still just saying. Archives
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