Caterwauling

If bad things happen in threes, consider the first job I got when I moved to Florida, then the second one, and then the last year spent freelancing. Ergo, my next employment endeavor should be paradise, yes?

I just got the plane ticket cancellation notification for the faraway prince. He’s none too happy. And I don’t blame him.

There was this new freelance gig that surfaced when I was at the nadir of my interviewing spree. And I told him upfront that I was on the job warpath. I also purposely dropped off the earth for long periods of time between e-mails — I didn’t want to say yes to him when I really wanted to say yes to anybody else.

And now he’s furious with me. Which was a bad bridge to burn. Not to mention the guy who put us in touch — I don’t ever want to disappoint him. Which I have. And that bothers me.

I hate that I go from feeling like I can conquer the world to feeling like I can’t make a decision to save my life. I don’t regret, per se, blowing off Freelance Guy. (I didn’t have a good feeling about working with him, and after having friends screw me over in Freelance Land, I don’t have a lot of faith that a perfect stranger would treat me any better.) But I feel like I could have handled it better.

The problem is that my field is so small, and my reputation is my everything, that I don’t want people out there thinking I suck.

I’ve spent the weekend with lots of friends, being stuffed full of good food and pumped up with stories of what makes me awesome to them (and what would make me awesome to the prince I’m about to wed tomorrow morning at 9 a.m.). And yet I still manage to reduce myself to the failure pile over someone I didn’t even feel the need to impress in the first place.

I need to snap out of this funk, and fast. Because life really isn’t all that bad. I was in line behind a guy at CVS who was trying (for like 10 minutes) to buy photos. The cashier was telling him that he only had $9 left in his account and the cost was $12.

I whispered to him that I wanted to pay for it, and he ran out of the store. Again, I don’t know if I did the right thing or, if I did, whether it was in the right way. But I realized that even though I’m “broke,” I’m ridiculously lucky to have more than $9 in my account.

I wish I didn’t feel so icky. I’ve made a lot of choices, good and bad, with the best information available at the time. I try to take into account my larger goals when dealing with the minutiae of the day. I guess I’ve just had so many questionable outcomes that I will never stop, well, questioning how I arrived at them.

But right now should be a time of hope. Tomorrow I’ll figure out whether I made the right move or not. Today I should be sitting on top of the world that nothing but possibilities lay before me.

Everything I’ve done (or haven’t done) has gotten me here. And what I do next remains to be seen. I just hope I can get over the heartache, doubt and exhaustion enough to do it well. …

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Sloppy fries at Sloppy Joe’s

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Thanks to a great deal of thinking and some expert advice from someone whose opinion I respect tremendously, I picked my prince.

Now to wait for the ring — er, in this case, letter.

This is the point that I need to be telling people that their princess is off the market. But I’m funny about that. What if things all go ka-plooey and, come that magical start date, I find that I need those gigs I’m giving up?

I’ve pretty much told everyone who needs to know except one. I will have to do that this morning.

I’ve also been working hard this week, minus just giving up early Monday afternoon and zoning out in front of the TV. I was kind of hoping for an easy couple of days. It’s not bad, mind you — just not exactly a vacation. I’ve been at this stupid computer all day, every day, for a year now. I’m just annoyed that I have nothing much to show for my time “off.”

On these same blog pages a year ago, I was ranting that freelance was the only way to go. Boy did I get my comeuppance. *points and laughs*

For the most part, freelancing has gone fine. Really, it’s the “where the fuck is my check?” shit that’s made this impossible. I can count exactly two people who paid on time, every time. (My favorite ex-boss, and my favorite ex-company.)

Other than that, I learned the hard way that money and friends don’t mix. Nobody ultimately gives a shit if you’re out on the streets … even if you earned every penny and more that you were promised but haven’t received … even if their unfulfilled promises are what got you to this absolute breaking point.

It’s also slightly amazing how people will let others treat you, too. Barking you around on a Saturday. Threatening you with “repercussions” when they already haven’t paid you — what, are they gonna kick you in this shin, too? Questioning your hours worked. Lying the ultimate lie: “The check is in the mail.” Lord.

THIS is why I’ve agonized so hard about moving on — I question my decision-making ability, after two failed full-time jobs and a baker’s dozen of hit-or-miss freelance experiences. What if the next full-time gig is another in a seemingly endless series of bad choices?

I take comfort in what The Daily OM said in yesterday’s e-letter:

“It is often at times like these that we take a job or move to a place without really knowing if it’s the right thing to do. We may ultimately end up leaving the job or the place, but often during that time we will have met someone who becomes an important friend, or we may have an experience that changes us in a profound way. …

“It’s fun to look back on past experiences with an eye to uncovering those gems—the dreadful temporary job in a bland office building that introduced you to the love of your life; the roommate you couldn’t tolerate who gave you a book that changed your life; the time spent living in a city you didn’t like that led you into a deeper relationship with yourself. Remembering these past experiences can restore our faith in the present.

Everything will be all right, one way or another. Or I’ll find a way to make it so. I always do.

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I caught this article on BNET on “The Case for Quitting” and had to share.

Particularly intriguing is the idea of “sunk costs,” where you’ve already invested so much time and/or money into a job or project that you might as well see the damn thing through to completion.

So, I left another freelance job. (I know, who DOES that in this economy?) It should have been everything I ever dreamed of and more. Yet my insides were turning black from both worry and the pack-a-day cigarette habit I’ve developed over the past two weeks.

It was the right thing to do for me. I’ve stuck it out too many times for all the wrong reasons. I wish them well and I tried to leave the door open to return again at a better time for all of us.

Right now, I’m focusing on my job search. God, I need a miracle on this one. I really do. And please save me from poor or rash judgment — finding a gig isn’t the problem, but identifying and going after the right one, however, I could use a lil help with.

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Hi, I’m Goddess, and I make horrendous choices.

And I make so many that I have to make some more to get out of the original batch.

I’ve been up since 3:38 a.m. (it’s 4:30 p.m. now) and there’s miles a marathon to go before I can (try to) sleep.

One day, when I can look back on this phase for the learning experience it is — one that is preparing me for those better things to come that HAVE to come, because I don’t know how much more I can take — I am going to have a very long talk with some people.

Till then, this is a great blog entry to read today:

When Law of Attraction Fails

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