With the new job underway, I find myself happily, albeit busily, employed. My new gig is fast-paced and keeps me rocking along about 9 hours a day.
Imagine my surprise when a one-off freelance client asked if I could help out again … to the tune of 30-40 hours of work. Due in 7 days.
I did what any self-respecting writer would do: said OK.
Now from “OK” to “product delivery,” there’s a bunch of ground to cover in a short amount of time. So I find myself at Oglethorpe University’s 24-hour study room, cranking through marketing material like a frat pledge through a free box of donuts at 3 a.m. Ah, the benefits of being an alumnus. It’s great being here, back where I got my communications and rhetoric degree. Back where I, in Public Speaking II, said, “I want to be a writer.”
That was one floor above me and half a decade ago. But here I am: a writer … writing. Like my college self, I’m putting in the extra hours and extra coffee. But this time it’s billable.
Will I be here at 3 a.m.? Perhaps. If not, I’ll be back here or somewhere tomorrow morning, typing out the goodness. Regardless, I’m practicing my craft and I feel exceptionally lucky doing so.