Working for nothing…*-??!!

I am between jobs, yet again. Or as the saying was in theatre years ago, I am at liberty just now! LOL. The life of a freelancer who would be queen. Whatever that might mean. I do fancy myself more important than I am, or at least the world hasn’t caught up with my brilliance yet. Still it has been a long time since I have agreed to write for nothing. I have worked on being paid for what I do. For some reason people believe that writing is one of those items that are not crucial to the project…

I have met with a friend who is starting a business. The competition in this particular arena is great. She and her partners have tried writing several pages for the soon to be website but can’t figure out what is needed. The call to me comes in. I am at liberty. Why not get involved in this new enterprise? Being unable to clearly explain what it is or what is needed to be written, I asked to meet with all the potential partners– including the techies who are the driving force at the present. That meeting is this Thursday. Upon thinking about this project, I have decided that I must be compensated in some way. I mean, what if the business takes off? What do I get for my efforts without any financial investment? More to be discovered.

In truth, I am an awful business woman. I do work for clients and forget to send an invoice. There are those who intimately know me that refer to such moments as my Gracie Allen moments. For those who are too young to remember, she was an hilariously ditzy character. She was lovable, as well. That’s it. My charm is in my Gracie Allen moments. In the meantime, I need to find work that will pay the electric bill and the internet service I am utilizing.

Maybe I should just forget it and collect my small share of social security early. OOOPPPPSSSS. Did I just give away my age?

Work fills my spirit

I shouldn’t apologize for being who I am, but I do see, at least at times, how different I am from the “normal” world.  Today, I went to an employment agency. It was really by accident that I happened to get there but I decided to follow through. I had to watch a video and then take a test on the video. I apparently did very well 🙂  Nothing to complicated. I then met with a counselor. I was told I needed to dumb down my resume as most of my work experience didn’t fit well into the receptionist, admin. asst. category.  If I weren’t so frustrated with myself, it might be funny. 

I have never wanted to work in an office in the traditional sense and so my experience in offices has been as a consultant or as a freelancer. I have taught, been on boards of organizations, worked as a workshop facilitator, speech writer to mention a few. I guess that doesn’t qualify me to work as an admin. asst.  Yet, as the conversation continued, I mentioned a job I thought I was originally applying for. It turns out that the job was for 3 lawyers. Oh boy. My husband, a trial lawyer, has wanted me to work with him while my job hunt continues.  So, that was ironic.

When I added that I thought I would fit fine into a communications dept. or a marketing dept. for a hosp., for example, she said, “yes, that would be a good fit only we just do clerical staff…” OK. Wrong employment agency.

Then I think, I should really work with my husband (that presents a whole other set of issues) part time and do my writing a few days a week. I just got two assignments today. One I am excited about as it has to do with domestic violence. No, I am not excited about domestic violence but about researching and interviewing people associated with addressing the issue. (Just to be clear…) And my friend, who wants me to help her write a book about children, addiction, and mental illness wants to get started on the project next week.  

Maybe the universe is giving me a message. Maybe I should stop trying to orchestrate  the whole thing and go with the flow. Wow– that sounds like an article I write several years ago. Hmm.  

I do wish, that I could support myself writing what I want to write about.

The business of writing

I just finished surfing the net — G-d only knows if there is a new expression for that now. That statement reflects how I feel at this moment. I read an article in the Times today about branding. Yuck. And, I was looking through the help wanted section of my local paper. There was an ad for a writer but the IT programs that were required, not just experience but expertise was astounding to me.

If I wanted to be a techy, I would have studied that. I come from a background that is interdisciplinary in nature. But, please, this is too much. And, while I am complaining, what is up with these sites where you bid for work. There was someone bidding on something and charging 40 cents per hour. OMG! Can any one compete with that? 

I guess I am getting a little  bit too old since I am resisting this so much. Still the fact is that I have this blog, I am on Tweeter, I have a website, and a facebook page. Oh please. I am SOOOO over it. Flick of the wrist… Had on hip. As my daughter would do. 🙂

Working for the love it–NOT

Often people say — you must love what you do. O.K. But, I also know that I have to earn a living doing what I love. What I get frustrated about these days is two fold: 1. you need to know how to write, how to program, how to be a graphic designer, 2. you need to have a huge skill set that in fact has nothing to do with writing AND you have to be willing to do all of this for next to nothing. It reminds me of when I was acting. So much money for the production and perhaps 5% for the artists themselves. Oh Please! So, once again, I got myself into a situation where I agreed to write a series of articles for a very low fee. I figured, O.K. its about extra money. But, after I worked on the first week’s quota, I realized that I was  working for less than minimum wage per hour. I have a Ph.D. and I am researching and writing for less than minimum wage. What is wrong with this picture? I resigned my position. I will find another way to earn extra money without totally selling myself and being frustrated in the process.