Sigh! Double sigh! Triple sigh! And so the train of sighs goes. I am so so tired, I think I am beginning to envy the receptionist! There’s just so much to do and hardly any time ever.
You see I work for content company and that entails a perennial stream of small changes, big changes, moderate changes, few changes, many changes, several changes, and another truckload of changes every other hour! Not like I want to do this. This happens to be the only way a writer can pay for his daily bread in this part of the world!
The other less attractive option is to freelance, which – come to think of – is not quite a miserable alternative: I can:
- Work when I want to.
- Refuse work when I don’t like it.
- Excuse myself from attending weddings, christenings, etc, etc, since “I’m freelancing and I don’t have the time and I have a deadline.”
- Easily holiday for a week because I decide when I want a break.
The downside of this entire dreamy enterprise is: Work is inconsistent in coming to you and consequently, your bank balance fluctuates worse than the lights in tiny villages in Vasai Road where power cuts and voltage dips are the order of the day and night.
So then, what should I do? Do I let this dragon-tailed guttersnipe of a schedule eat into my bones? Or should I show it the door and welcome the wrath and acerbic comments of my parents and relatives?
Time – as Someone said – will tell!
