On being a freelancer

Reading back over some of my blog entries over the last seven years (seriously...seven years!) I realise that recently I have not written about my work at all. Given it's something I love, I probably should give it some air time.

Since having my two children and enjoying unparalleled maternity benefits from the quasi-public sector company I hesitate to say I 'worked' for, (as I was hardly there, mainly at home having children), in 2011 I set up as a freelancer.  This has been necessary on two levels - firstly, we live in the middle of no-where and to commute to Edinburgh or Glasgow would take an hour (which is fine) but to factor in the kiddie nursery / school drop off and collection by 6pm at the latest as well as the astronomical childcare fees (£50/day per child) means this would be a high-stress, low income option.  Secondly, as you'll perhaps be aware if you followed my spiralling depression and frustration with the aforementioned quasi public sector engineering company and its inability to do ANYTHING quickly (or, at all) I am definitely not cut out for the quasi-public sector, and sadly, this being Scotland, 1 in 4 jobs are in that sector, and the other 3 in 4 jobs are taken by people who don't have problem 1 that I mention above. (e.g. they live in the city within which they work, so don't have long commuting hours, high transport costs and can therefore afford the cost of childcare AS WELL as paying a mortgage, saving up for holidays, putting food other than baked beans on the table etc and for them it makes sense, is worthwhile, whoppee bloody doo. Lucky them.

Along with many rural-dwellers (!) I have had to think outside the box and I admit, at the start it was a frightening time having just moved house.  We didn't know any childminders so I had to pretend I was ok to work when clearly I had two children smacking each other under my desk, crying out at inopportune times and betraying my desperate air of professionalism.  I planned my 'work' time around children's sleep times, packing in 2 hours intensely focused work between 1 and 3pm and then picking up at 8pm when the kids were in bed, eating a piece of toast for supper and refraining from the nectar of the gods (wine) in case I got tiddly and sent the wrong invoice to the wrong client or made an even more basic mistake.

Finding clients was of course and remains the most 'challenging' aspect of being a freelancer.  A client is not a guarantee and many times I have been asked for my availability and fees only to be told the job was later cancelled, or no explanation at all - I sit watching my telephone for hours expecting that call which never comes.


Back in 2011 when I realised I couldn't go back to the quasi-public sector engineering company (for mental health reasons), when the babies (then aged 2.5 and nearly 1) were having their lunchtime sleep, I called a recruitment agency having read a suitable looking advert for a Marcomms type role.  I had a bad cough at the time but I wasn't aware of it being a problem so I dialled the number and connected through the the recruitment consultant.  At this point my nerves kicked in so badly that when I mis-pronounced her name, although she gently corrected me and was kind, I became a mumbling coughing idiot who had lost the power of speech.  It quickly became apparent that the role wasn't for me but she soldiered on, asking me what I was interested in and where I saw myself in five years time.  This shook me to the core - I could barely think beyond the here and now, let alone long-term.  In 5 years time I just wanted to be alive.  For my kids to still be alive.  To still be married.  Perhaps to have more disposable cash.  In 5 years time I did NOT want to be where I was then, at that point, making that call.  This, clearly wasn't a very good answer and the more she pressed me, the more frustrated with my own ineptitude I became...and I'm horrified to admit that in frustration I actually started to CRY.  That's right, I stood there with the telephone in my hand, swaying with tears running down my cheeks because I had completely stuffed up the chance of wowing her with my wit and ambition.  I cried because I had no idea what to do with my life.  (and let's face it, I was probably crying because I was so flipping tired with two small children).I do remember saying "I don't KNOW, I'm just so TIRED, I just need to get out of the house and get some SPACE from my babies".

This was not the best way of selling myself, but rather than kicking myself I see it now as benchmark against how far I have now come.  (e.g. not crying to recruitment consultants and being clueless as to the direction I think I want to go in).

So, I now have three wonderful clients who I work for every week, providing me with three days 'space' from my two wonderful children, (although I admit, I do yearn for them from time to time when it's sunny outside and I wish I was playing with them rather than sat at my desk), the children enjoy lots of fun at a fab nursery and more importantly I KNOW what I want to be doing - this, exactly this, but I want to grow it, I want to be BIG, I want to eventually get so busy that I need to recruit staff.  I wanna go International baby.  Yeah.

So, to anyone who is stuck in the post-baby doldrums and can't stand the thought of returning to work I have 3 words for you: don't do it.  Set up on your own if you have nerves of steel (and a supportive partner who is happy to keep cash in the bank until you get up and running) and enjoy being master of your own destiny.  If it's not for you - get in touch!  I may well need someone just like you in the next year or two.