The Freelance Life: triflings and trivia of Monica's creative freelancing life. Read the full version here!
Monica writes about the everyday life of a creative freelancer, from the boring (cleaning up her office in an attempt to attract more work) to the lively
(interviewing freelancers in the UK) to the somewhat odd (her obsession with having two doorbells). If you're interested in exactly how a freelance
life works in real life, read on.
Monica writes about the everyday life of a creative freelancer, from the boring (cleaning up her office in an attempt to attract more work) to the lively
(interviewing freelancers in the UK) to the somewhat odd (her obsession with having two doorbells). If you're interested in exactly how a freelance
life works in real life, read on.
I am one of those annoying people who take up loads of room in cafés. I am currently sitting in a
relatively busy café at a table for four, but it’s just me. I have my laptop, and my notes, and my
enormous bag stuffed with all the detritus that a wandering freelancer needs. My local café does
double duty as my office (at least some of the time), so obviously I need to spread out. I do
appreciate, though, that my presence is vexing for the wait staff. I will probably also be here for a
lengthy period of time, and consume one small coffee. I’m not really a café’s idea of a good time.
At least I’m sensitive to the anxiety of my waitperson. Having been a waitperson myself, a thousand
years ago, I do understand. I used to work in a terribly cool café in Glebe, one of the ritzier and more
up-itself suburbs of Sydney. Local celebs and the wealthy beautiful crowd used to stop in regularly
for their foccacias and macchiatos. Writers would come in and take up multiple tables with their
notebooks and big ideas (this is the pre-laptop days), wannabe filmmakers would come in a take up
even more room with their big dreams. I was constantly juggling tables and people and armloads of
food, trying to squeeze as many fabulous bodies in as I could. It was complicated and annoying, and
I often had a hangover while doing it, so many a less-than-savoury word would escape my lips on a
busy Saturday morning.
If this café gets any busier, I will move to a smaller table. Or move to another café. I live near
Newtown, which prides itself on being one of the hippest café strips of Sydney. If I leave here there
will another café within spitting distance and yet another short black and large table awaiting me. I
am also not alone. Living in a suburb full of students, freelancers and ne’er-do-well creatives, there
are inevitably a large number of our kind taking up lots of room and spending small amounts of
money.
I do have a perfectly nice office to do my work in. And, most of the time, I’m in there working. But I’ve
incorporated the café culture into my day anyway. I usually drop the kids off at school early, to
accommodate their various swatty activities, and then have an hour or so to wait before I can go to
the gym. I fill that hour with a bit of work in a café on the way. I have a couple of favourite haunts,
although I do tend to be a bit slutty in my café commitments. After gym I head back to my office and
my day begins proper, but that little bit of work in between (and the super-strong coffee that goes
with it) helps to kick start the process.
I will probably always exploit the café-as-office though, for sentimental reasons. I started freelancing
while I was still a student, and shared a house with large numbers of scruffy friends. My tiny bedroom
was dedicated to study and other exploratory activities, and there was no way I could do anything
serious in the rest of the house. I’d seen the writers and filmmakers coming into my workplace, and I
envied them so. I hadn’t yet decided to take myself seriously as either, so I didn’t want my flatmates
to see me doing anything as poncy in case they made fun of me.
So, I would take my writing to a café, where nobody knew me and I could spend my days trying to
make my words behave themselves. Later, after uni, when I was trying to find work (and myself) I
would spend whole days in cafés, making my pitiful dole money last for as long as humanly possible,
writing and writing and writing. Most of those words were crap, but after a while the good ones
started to pay, as did my other long-held dreams.
I feel a certain pride sitting here now. It’s twenty years since those days, and even though it was hard
and sometimes I was very frightened, I have made this freelance life work. I have a creative job that I
love, and that I invented for myself. It doesn’t get much better than that.
And now, if you’ll excuse me, I might have another coffee. After all, I can afford it these days.
Until next time, happy freelancing.
x Monica
Freelancing for Australian (for Dummies) is available in bookstores and via the Freelance Success
website right now – visit http://www.freelancesuccess.com.au/books for more information.
relatively busy café at a table for four, but it’s just me. I have my laptop, and my notes, and my
enormous bag stuffed with all the detritus that a wandering freelancer needs. My local café does
double duty as my office (at least some of the time), so obviously I need to spread out. I do
appreciate, though, that my presence is vexing for the wait staff. I will probably also be here for a
lengthy period of time, and consume one small coffee. I’m not really a café’s idea of a good time.
At least I’m sensitive to the anxiety of my waitperson. Having been a waitperson myself, a thousand
years ago, I do understand. I used to work in a terribly cool café in Glebe, one of the ritzier and more
up-itself suburbs of Sydney. Local celebs and the wealthy beautiful crowd used to stop in regularly
for their foccacias and macchiatos. Writers would come in and take up multiple tables with their
notebooks and big ideas (this is the pre-laptop days), wannabe filmmakers would come in a take up
even more room with their big dreams. I was constantly juggling tables and people and armloads of
food, trying to squeeze as many fabulous bodies in as I could. It was complicated and annoying, and
I often had a hangover while doing it, so many a less-than-savoury word would escape my lips on a
busy Saturday morning.
If this café gets any busier, I will move to a smaller table. Or move to another café. I live near
Newtown, which prides itself on being one of the hippest café strips of Sydney. If I leave here there
will another café within spitting distance and yet another short black and large table awaiting me. I
am also not alone. Living in a suburb full of students, freelancers and ne’er-do-well creatives, there
are inevitably a large number of our kind taking up lots of room and spending small amounts of
money.
I do have a perfectly nice office to do my work in. And, most of the time, I’m in there working. But I’ve
incorporated the café culture into my day anyway. I usually drop the kids off at school early, to
accommodate their various swatty activities, and then have an hour or so to wait before I can go to
the gym. I fill that hour with a bit of work in a café on the way. I have a couple of favourite haunts,
although I do tend to be a bit slutty in my café commitments. After gym I head back to my office and
my day begins proper, but that little bit of work in between (and the super-strong coffee that goes
with it) helps to kick start the process.
I will probably always exploit the café-as-office though, for sentimental reasons. I started freelancing
while I was still a student, and shared a house with large numbers of scruffy friends. My tiny bedroom
was dedicated to study and other exploratory activities, and there was no way I could do anything
serious in the rest of the house. I’d seen the writers and filmmakers coming into my workplace, and I
envied them so. I hadn’t yet decided to take myself seriously as either, so I didn’t want my flatmates
to see me doing anything as poncy in case they made fun of me.
So, I would take my writing to a café, where nobody knew me and I could spend my days trying to
make my words behave themselves. Later, after uni, when I was trying to find work (and myself) I
would spend whole days in cafés, making my pitiful dole money last for as long as humanly possible,
writing and writing and writing. Most of those words were crap, but after a while the good ones
started to pay, as did my other long-held dreams.
I feel a certain pride sitting here now. It’s twenty years since those days, and even though it was hard
and sometimes I was very frightened, I have made this freelance life work. I have a creative job that I
love, and that I invented for myself. It doesn’t get much better than that.
And now, if you’ll excuse me, I might have another coffee. After all, I can afford it these days.
Until next time, happy freelancing.
x Monica
Freelancing for Australian (for Dummies) is available in bookstores and via the Freelance Success
website right now – visit http://www.freelancesuccess.com.au/books for more information.
| Older posts... |
Welcome to the Freelance Freakout
“The last thing I want is to become the freelance equivalent of the desperate girlfriend...”
The Loneliest Day of the Year
“It’s here, that loneliest day for freelancers – Melbourne Cup Day.”
Don't Leave Me This Way
“…I won’t go out of business if I’m not available for a month... will I?...”
School Holiday Fun
“I have had that rare thing – I’ve been a largely stay-at-home mother with a full time job...”
Mixed Marriages
“…I do not live in Suit World. Every morning I get up, and after that it’s always different....”
Monday-itis on a Tuesday
“…My clients, who don’t realise that it’s Sunday in Monica World, call me or email me and actually expect me to be
interested and engaged...”
The Ailing Freelancer
“…There were quite a few moments in my Saturday class (after my paracetamol wore off) where I was a little bit loopy,
but I don’t think anyone noticed...”
The Etiquette of Flying
“…What kind of sad jaded person doesn’t have that moment of labrador-like joy when the big plane takes off and
launches itself into the sky...”
Who Gets Left Out of the Creative 3-Some?
“…I’d wager a pair of pretty shoes that most of them started as creative freelancers with a bit of talent, a good idea and a
fire in their belly...”
Let Washing be my Saviour
“…When it’s really really bad, holes in socks are mended and greying blacks are dyed back to their dark glory...”
Waiting for Godot
“…So now, I wait. And while I wait, I eat chocolate...”
To Gym or Not to Gym?
“…I will soldier on then, and join the land of the bleary eyed.”
Should I Be a Twit?
“…do I really want to be that Nigel No-Friends in the tweeting world, offering bits of wisdom when everyone is talking
about the latest Hollywood gossip?”
Cleanliness is next to Joblessness.
"...the only way to find out is to put my metaphorical wellies on and wade in..."
Same All Over the World.
"...thousands of miles away, in a dingy café down a little sidestreet, another creative freelancer is supping on cheap
wine..."
Leaving... on a Jet Plane...
"...I foresee many MANY drinks in my future, including not a small amount of Guinness..."
Marketing Madness.
"...despite my frenzied panting ways I am attempting to be cool..."
Road Trip to Wollongong.
"...this writing caper rates very low on the Career Suck-O-Metre™ so I’ll probably keep it up..."
Two Doorbells. One Door. No Brains.
"... I have faith in the two doorbells, one door scenario, anally retentive though it may be..."
Happy Pope Week.
"...I have it on very good authority that the Pope smokes. Holy smoke indeed..."
What a Lovely Doorstop.
"...I am having an experience I have never had before...."
“The last thing I want is to become the freelance equivalent of the desperate girlfriend...”
The Loneliest Day of the Year
“It’s here, that loneliest day for freelancers – Melbourne Cup Day.”
Don't Leave Me This Way
“…I won’t go out of business if I’m not available for a month... will I?...”
School Holiday Fun
“I have had that rare thing – I’ve been a largely stay-at-home mother with a full time job...”
Mixed Marriages
“…I do not live in Suit World. Every morning I get up, and after that it’s always different....”
Monday-itis on a Tuesday
“…My clients, who don’t realise that it’s Sunday in Monica World, call me or email me and actually expect me to be
interested and engaged...”
The Ailing Freelancer
“…There were quite a few moments in my Saturday class (after my paracetamol wore off) where I was a little bit loopy,
but I don’t think anyone noticed...”
The Etiquette of Flying
“…What kind of sad jaded person doesn’t have that moment of labrador-like joy when the big plane takes off and
launches itself into the sky...”
Who Gets Left Out of the Creative 3-Some?
“…I’d wager a pair of pretty shoes that most of them started as creative freelancers with a bit of talent, a good idea and a
fire in their belly...”
Let Washing be my Saviour
“…When it’s really really bad, holes in socks are mended and greying blacks are dyed back to their dark glory...”
Waiting for Godot
“…So now, I wait. And while I wait, I eat chocolate...”
To Gym or Not to Gym?
“…I will soldier on then, and join the land of the bleary eyed.”
Should I Be a Twit?
“…do I really want to be that Nigel No-Friends in the tweeting world, offering bits of wisdom when everyone is talking
about the latest Hollywood gossip?”
Cleanliness is next to Joblessness.
"...the only way to find out is to put my metaphorical wellies on and wade in..."
Same All Over the World.
"...thousands of miles away, in a dingy café down a little sidestreet, another creative freelancer is supping on cheap
wine..."
Leaving... on a Jet Plane...
"...I foresee many MANY drinks in my future, including not a small amount of Guinness..."
Marketing Madness.
"...despite my frenzied panting ways I am attempting to be cool..."
Road Trip to Wollongong.
"...this writing caper rates very low on the Career Suck-O-Metre™ so I’ll probably keep it up..."
Two Doorbells. One Door. No Brains.
"... I have faith in the two doorbells, one door scenario, anally retentive though it may be..."
Happy Pope Week.
"...I have it on very good authority that the Pope smokes. Holy smoke indeed..."
What a Lovely Doorstop.
"...I am having an experience I have never had before...."
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Freelance Success is a registered trademark #1241679.
Freelance Success is another business adventure owned by...
Freelance Success is a registered trademark #1241679.
Freelance Success is another business adventure owned by...
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