Dear Darling Ones,

For the first time since sometime in 2021, I have a momentary lull in work. And boy, howdy, do I fucking need it.

If you recall 2022 kicked off with me getting The COVID, then BFK’s restaurant burned down, and it ended with everyone dying (Jodi Hanson’s mom, my dad, Uncle Danny, and Betty).

Through it all, I worked my ass off.

I worked because it was a distraction. I worked because someone has to pay the mortgage around here. I worked because I always say yes and I hate disappointing people. I worked because my brain is poisoned by capitalism and without work what is even the point of my existence?

2022 was kind of a fluke when it comes to early year work. Traditionally, my work tends to slow down at the start of the year. Also, as is my tradition, I begin worrying about never working again and being homeless by March. I’ve done this every year since I started freelancing in 2009.

Since 2022 was a personal record scratch of a year, I’m going to try to do things differently with this lull.

For one, I’m going to enjoy it. I’m going to make the most of this temporary lull by doing as much nothing as possible. Or at least what looks like nothing to a lot of people.

I’m gonna nap. I’m gonna lay on the couch and listen to records. I’m gonna talk about rock & roll on Twitter while I still can. I’m going to work doggedly on the Catghan. I’m going to read so many books (I’m nearly done re-reading all three of Sally Rooney’s novels. I forgot how awkwardly sexy they are. Rawr!). I’m going to think and daydream. I might fuck around and start writing fiction again.

What I’m not going to do is get super anxious about money and potential homelessness.

At least not until March.

I will not be bored right out of my skull,
Jodi

P.S. Do not worry. I have some small things to keep me going, some big things on the horizon, and a check that will cover three-months of expenses on the way. Yeah, three months. That’s how much of my ass I worked off.

P.P.S. I’m super afraid that just by mentioning my lull I’m alerting the universe that I need seventeen new projects and six new clients. Please universe, I need a small break.

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Dear Employer,

When you hear the news please save the saintly words for saintly souls. I’ll be long gone, long gone and rotting, long gone and ulcerous. A thing untold.

The first time I got laid off was in March, 2008. We had a farewell party at the office, since Corel was closing up shop and it was mostly empty. I was in charge of the music and I included a live version of Jeff Tweedy’s cover of The Minus 5’s “Dear Employer (The Reason I Quit).” Three times, actually, which is why it’s one of my Top 10 most-listened to songs.

Even though we were laid off in March 2008, the announcement was made in November 2007. In a perfect metaphor about the coldness corporations and the way they dehumanize people, I had to introduce myself to my boss so he could hand me my termination papers and severance letter. He had zero idea who I was before then, even though he’d been my boss for nearly a year.

The last time I got laid off was May 15, 2009. The four-person marketing team had a farewell lunch for me at the same place I had my welcome lunch just six months earlier. That time around my boss knew my name and he was more distraught about the lay off than I was. He kept me on as a contractor for years and has hired me off and on in a freelance capacity since.

My only goal in 2009 was to make it through the summer as a freelancer. After that, I’d go back to work.

I have not been back to work since, so to speak. Like most everything in my life, I had no intention of being a self-employed freelancer for most of my career. This is another case of things just happen & keep happening.

How this has continued to happen for 13 years is not a total mystery. I like to pretend it is, because it seems funnier. Also, whenever I talk about things I’m good at that aren’t eating cookies I feel egotistical or that I’m getting too big for my britches. The feminine urge to downplay every single aspect of yourself that can be seen in a positive life is real, y’all.

The truth is I’m good at what I do and I’m a lot of fun to work with. I have twelve pretty regular clients and have worked with 60+ clients over the years. I have gotten 99% of my work through word of mouth and one time because I was a fan of The Replacements.

Today is the 13th anniversary of being my own employer. I am very good at being the boss of me. Next to starting this blog, working for myself has been the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I would probably be richer and less hermitty if I had an office job. However, I know for certain I would be crankier and less happy.

Working in for a company would have eaten away my soul until all I did was go to work, come home, and sit on my couch waiting to die.

That’s the reason that I quit,
Jodi

P.S. I don’t offer a lot of advice about working from home or freelancing. However, the one rule that I think everyone should follow is this: Wear what you fucking want. I’ve read roughly 8,196 articles and blog posts about working from home. Each and every one of them said to “dress like you’re going to work.” Fuck that nonsense. Ostensibly, it’s supposed to make you more productive and more professional. I call bullshit. If you can’t be professional and productive in your comfy pants and Joan Jett & The Blackhearts t-shirt, what are you even doing with your life?

I perform 98% better when I’m comfortable and not spending my time thinking about how a bra is digging into my side or how my shoes are bothering my feet. They say dress for the job you want, which is what I do. I dress like someone who wants to read books, listen to rock & roll, and intermittently nap after lunch. Maybe you want to be All-Time King/Queen Corporate Automaton who looks like they have a ruler up their ass wearing clothes that cost a lot of money and go in and out of style. You do you.

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There are many things to love about being a work-from-home freelancer. Working from your couch in your pajamas. The view from your desk (pictured above). The ability to take a post-lunch nap because you didn’t get to sleep until 1 (thanks, The Stars and the Blackness Between Them) and were rudely awakened at 6:58 a.m. by a barking Walter who was upset about the delivery of a Babes in Toyland record (a Christmas present for your nephew).

The one thing I don’t like is December. Mostly I don’t like it because I am the Goldilocks of work and also a contrarian and also a Minnesotan.

In December things slow way down. At this point in the year most big projects are done and new big projects aren’t gonna get going until after the holidays. This means most of December is just about maintaining. Doing small tasks as they come up, but not doing anything really exciting or meaty.

I have discovered that when it comes to work I either want one billion things to do or no things to do. Except when I don’t want that. Being of two minds all the time is exhausting.

For instance, today I had one task to do. And I whined about it, inside my head, for about three times as long as it took to do the damn thing. Ugh. It’s Christmas. Why do they insist on making me do things for money? Can’t we just take time off and enjoy the holiday? Why must we work all the time?

This is in sharp contrast to yesterday, where I had two tasks and was losing my freaking mind about it. Oh my god, there’s no work. Not enough work. I’m going to be broke and homeless by February. Why don’t these people have more work for me?

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SPOILER: It’s me. I’m the worst client I have.

I say this having finally mostly completed the latest update to my portfolio site. Mostly completed, because there’s a lot I want to fix, but it’s completed enough to take down the maintenance screen that’s been up since. . . oh. . . the January 19th. Perfect is the enemy of done, right?

Why am I the worst client? I’m super picky, indecisive, impatient, and hate everything 12 minutes after I’ve done it. What also makes me the worst? I rarely update my portfolio. In my head I update it whenever things get slow. It’s part of the panic process, remember? But according to the stupid site I just finished, it hadn’t really been updated since 2015. Oh, remember how great 2015 was?

In other news, there is no other news. It snowed a ton of inches today and I had to cancel CSA Supperclub. I made pork ramen anyway, and now my stomach hurts because I ate too much pork. Also, I am super tired because apparently I have to wake up every morning at five a.m. to pee and then not fall back to sleep for like an hour. I’m not a fan of this nonsense.

The post Day 198 of 200: The Worst Client appeared first on I Will Dare.

Earlier this week I had a phone interview with a potential client. He was funny and forthright about his writing and editing skills. I was, well, dorky and awkward. This should come as no surprise.

At one point in the call he asked me if there was a place he could see my work.

“I went to your website, but it was down for maintenance.” he said.
“Uhhhh. . .” I said. “Well, it is. January is usually slow, and so I re-do website. It hasn’t been as slow as I anticipated.”
“Ahh,” he said, understanding.

Then I rattled off a few of my clients’ websites he could go to. After a half-second of hesitation I said, “You can also go to my personal blog, iwilldare.com. If you’re easily offended, you might want to skip it.”
He laughed.
“It’s eighteen years old and probably the most accurate reflection of my personality there is.”

I could hear him chuckling as I launched into my work history, the history of the website, and what I do now.

“I see one picture here with blue hair and one picture here with no hair,” he said.

Then we talked about my hair. It went really well.

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