C'est Fini

Sort of. I did finish the draft of my novel, but I must confess, there is a ot of summary towards the end that still needs to be fleshed out. Because I know there is a lot of editing still ahead, I am having trouble viewing it as any real accomplishment.

Aside from novels, it has been a summer filled with "I can't believe I'm doing this" moments: good and bad. Somewhat surreal. I have always wanted to do freelance creative work, in any capacity. I have really struggled with the letting go of the crutch of the day job, since stabalizing my income after a year and a half or so of working various odd jobs to make ends meet while pounding the pavement auditioning for shows, films, etc. I struggled even then at making the choice, so many years ago, to bite the bullet and work 8:30 - 5 at an actual office. Ugh. And I did it for so long. They always say they'll be flexible, but it never really works out that way. In fact, there would always be the day-job mutation during the actual course of the job. What I mean by this, is that in the beginning things "I-can't-believe-someone-is-paying-me-this-much-money-to-do-this." But, alas, it's a trick. The evolution process begins. There is a shifting that takes place, over time, of work, of responsibility, of stress. Before long, I'm doing the job of at least three people and I'm losing sleep and popping vitamin Cs tablets like Junior Mints at the cinema to keep from missing one day. One day that would put me so far behind in the workload it might take weeks to recover. All this, while the people whose job I'm doing are making six-figure incomes to shop online and decide which party they're going to for the weekend. Everything's a big drama. Everything was needed yesterday. And everyone wants you to make them look good for their boss without giving you props.

But then there is the whole steady-income thing. That letting go of having to budget for everything from dinner and el fare to utility bills and cell phone minutes. It was nice not to have to care about keeping such a close track of it all when the cash flow was steady. I find that every day I have to tell myself I'm doing the right thing. That this is what I need to do right now. That it will eventually pay off and things will be better. I still have stress, but it has shifted. It's more ambiguous. I may have no reason to be stressed at all. Things may all work out. But it's such a different lifestyle, being a free agent. Poor agent, but happy agent. Trying to avoid the sensitive "no-steady-job" topic with the 'rents. A recent spat with my father just about sent me over the edge. I worked hard to keep from falling off the edge, get things back on track. Am working hard to stay outta the funk that says I'm not cut out for it, not ready yet, I'm delusional. It's so hard to stay focused. This should be fun, right? Charting new creative territories? It's not for the faint of heart, or weak ego, that's for certain.