The Joys of Pantless Freelancing

This summer, I am doing freelance input/editing. Now, when I first took this job, I envisioned a wonderland, where I could move about the city, editing wherever I wanted. Spending the day doing actual WORK in Mars Cafe or Starbucks, listening to music while sipping decaf and feeling all grown up. Most importantly, I would be free to lounge around the house in whatever I felt most comfortable in. Which, for me, means no pants. Not necessarily bottomless, but in sweats, a skirt, whatever. But no pants.

And then, reality. Instead of editing, I'm doing data input. Instead of my carefree joyful world of coffee shops and pretty coffee cups and low-key folk rock, I get to sit in my hard wooden kitchen booth calling multiple restaurants and bars for hours on end. Needless to say, this was a little disappointing. I hate making phone calls, and I HATE being trapped at home for hours on end calling manager after manager so I can ask them if their restaurant has a party room.

I'm into my third week, and have come to several important conclusions. The first, is that no job is as bad as you think it is. Sure, this sucks, but there are upsides. Sometimes, I get to call hilarious places. Like that one topless bar on the Northeast side. Sometimes, the owner is really nice to me, and tells me to come by sometime and they'll buy me a drink (which I cannot take advantage of, but which I appreciate all the same).

Most of all, though, freelance has made me realize that I need to get a different job. Some people can turn freelancing into a successful business and find fulfillment in being their own boss. I, however, am not one of these people. I like talking to people. I like leaving my home. However, I also enjoy not wearing pants. This is the conundrum: my dislike of being stuck at home combined with my love of not having to wear confining garments. I'll have to figure this out somehow. But at least I have the whole summer.