One of the hard things about being a contractor is the uncertainty. When will I find the next job? How long will it last? I changed roles a few years ago and went to work for an agency so they could worry about the finding and negotiating. That ended recently when the economy took a bit out of the bottom line and I was one of the ones downsized.
Stress is a killer to my creative muse. At the moment, I’m sitting in the dark writing this. Just me and the bright white screen. It’s easy to put words here at the moment. It’s not so easy when I open up one of the works in progress. Why is that?
Probably for the same reason the call you’ve been waiting hours to receive only comes when you’re on the phone. The universe has a wicked sense of humor.
I sent in a query recently. I’m supposed to hear back something in the next week. I often make deals with the universe and her wicked sense of balance. If I’m supposed to do this or not do that, then send me a sign.
I keep trying to read the sign of unemployment as a hint to write. I’ve been editing book 4 but it’s slow. The 105,619 words are a bit intimidating. Instead of looking at it as 105,619 words, I broke it into 15 page segments. Makes it feel doable.
So that’s what I’m doing. I’ve got a few PT jobs cobbled together for now. It’s not perfect but it’s something and if that’s the sign the universe needs me to take, I’ll take it.