While it’s universally accepted that less work and more leisure is a good thing, having less cash isn’t. Yet it’s the quickest way to get there. So therein lies your biggest obstacle to fulfilment and happiness (aside from crippling fear) in your formative years as a human freelancer: giving up on monetary salvation from a proper job.
In those nervous first few years of frugal emancipation, expect to habitually scan job websites for vacancies that pay more to do less. Good luck trying to find those jobs because they don’t exist. And the ones that come close list ‘surrendering your soul’ and ‘being a parasite on society’ as duties. That said, I’ve heard organ donation (both clinical and sexual) pay well but the occupational hazards aren’t worth the trouble.
The genesis of this post was hearing my wife exclaim “I can’t imagine living my life any other way” after two years of acclimatising to less work and less money my wife exclaimed recently. It’s been a steady, testing process but she no longer panics at earning fuck all and relinquished the periodic torture of cruising the Internet for money-spinning ruses.
So you know you’ve made it as a human freelancer when the only reason you visit a job site (on the rare occasion that you do) is to remind yourself how spectacularly shit salaried employment is.
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Self-help business books perpetuate the myth that success is relentless growth and more of everything means progress. They preach about bookkeeping and market research: things you might need to do of course. But let’s face it they’re fucking boring.
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