An answer to a question posted on LinkedIn.
I was sifting through my e-mail in box this morning and found an update from LinkedIn. It’s the usual update that tells me what my contacts are up to. I saw that one of them had answered a question in the LinkedIn Answers area. It was a question that interested me:
Are most of the freelancers doing what they are happy to do?
The question went on to ask why we chose to be freelancers and, oddly enough, whether we’re “keen” to be freelancers if we have a full-time job. (Must be a Brit; don’t know anyone who uses the word keen that way.)
The question reminded me that there are a lot of non-freelancers out there, peeking at us from over the tops of their cubicles. They like what they see — people working their own hours and being their own bosses — but they don’t quite understand it. They think they want to be freelancers, but if they’re smart — like this guy is — they’ll do their homework first. His questions told me that he was just starting that homework. I wanted to help him get it done.
I logged into LinkedIn and offered the following response:
I started my freelance career in 1990 and haven’t looked back.
I like the idea that I get paid for what I do, not whether I fill space in a cubicle every day. I work harder now and get more satisfaction than when I had the big corporate job with the corner office.
Sometimes I work my butt off to get a job done on time. Sometimes I have multiple jobs requiring my attention. During these times, I work far more than 40 hours a week. But I’m getting paid for doing REAL work. And I’ll get more work based on how well I get each job done. I earn my pay and my job security.
When there’s nothing lined up that requires immediate attention or I’m taking a break between projects, I have the freedom to take time off and do the things I want to do. In my very flexible spare time, I learned to fly, I take road trips, I goof off. If a friend calls with an idea to spend the day and there’s nothing important on the front burner, I go. That makes freelancing worth it.
But there’s no such thing as a weekend anymore. If a job needs doing and the only day to do it is on Sunday, I work on Sunday. Simple as that.
You ask if we’re keen to be freelancing if we have a full time job. Don’t fool yourself — freelancing can be a full-time job. And don’t think about a freelance job if you have another full-time job. Isn’t your life more important than working 60 to 80 hours a week? Instead, let a freelance career replace a full-time job. Use it to improve your life, not make more stress.
But be prepared. When you’re your own boss, you’ll quickly learn the importance of getting the job done and making the client happy. If you screw up, there’s no one to blame except you. And there’s no one to rescue you, either.
Freelancing is not for everyone. If you’re a chronic procrastinator, stay in your cube — you’ll starve if you can’t deliver. If you’re afraid to sell your services or products, you’ll never make it as a freelancer. (There’s always something to sell and someone to sell to, even if you need to sell to the person who will sell for you.) If you think freelancing means a lot of free time without a boss looking over your shoulder, you got that wrong. The client or customer is the boss and you’ll probably work harder as a freelancer than you have in any other job you’ve ever held.
Is it worth it? I think so. But then again, I never did have patience for the 9 to 5 grind and its pointless office appearances.
(If telecommuting is available at your workplace, try that first. You’ll have the same regular paycheck and benefits and the same work but you won’t waste hours a day traveling to and from a central workplace office. Your quality of life simply has to improve — especially if your daily commute is more than an hour each way.)
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Hence, the bribe. Mike booked two nights in the 
And with two full days to play tourist, I’d have a great opportunity to walk my old stomping grounds down in the financial district, 
So when I tried it in the shed last night, I turned the flash off. I held the camera steady for the 1/4 second shutter speed that captured this image, which shows my husband, Mike, taking a quick drink before trying to fix the furnace. In the lower part of the photo, you can see my knees (clad in my wild chili pepper pants) and the sofa I sat on. Jack the Dog was sitting between my legs, watching Mike. The shot shows 90% of the shed’s main room.
I brought out two apple pieces, which was a bad idea. As soon as they realized I had food, they wouldn’t leave me alone. They kept nosing my camera bag and shirt and it was all I could do to keep the camera out of their reach. But finally they realized that I wasn’t an apple tree and left me alone. Then it got tough to photograph them. They wouldn’t stand still. I managed to capture this shot of Jake with Cherokee in the background.
This first shot was taken from about 2 feet from one end of the log. There’s not much curvature at all. And yes, that’s the sun. With the fisheye lens, it’s hard to keep the sun out of photos.
This second shot was taken about a foot and a half from the middle of the log. It’s a bad exposure; I’m not quite sure what I did wrong here. Still not much curvature.
This third shot was taken 6 to 12 inches from the end of the log. I focused on the log, but because there was so much light, there’s a decent amount of depth of field. You can really see the curvature of the horizon, but can still clearly identify the horses and windsock.
It’s tragic, in a way. You spend hundreds or thousands of dollars on an item, use it for a few years (if that long) and find that it’s value had dropped to a fraction of what you paid for it. That’s not bad if you still use it. But if you’ve replaced it with a newer or better model, you’re stuck with something that has no value to you.
That’s what I’ve been doing this week: putting my old stuff on eBay.