Where’s the moolah? I keep at it, and I’m working and loving it. Writing and thinking and bantering and learning to the tune of 15 hours a week. Been at it 6 weeks now, got paid for 2. Never was any good at math, but . . .
The one paycheck received was from a bonafide, reputable bank (oxymoron) still solvent enough to cover my pay. (Which, before you’re she thinks she’s all that — is only slightly more than a substitute teacher, but seems like a bundle more because of the whole big, beautiful 1099 thing: tax free now, pay gov’t later. Note to self: One third. Save 1/3.)
Is it a woman-thing where we’re afraid to ask for the dough? Are men squeamish about such things? I manned up when I asked point-blank for the job, but am avoiding this like H1N1. I send in the timesheet, but never ask phone-to-phone, virtually or otherwise, when I’ll be paid.
And no, I’m not getting scammed. I’ve got all the access and contacts of the company and can get inside every nook and cranny of the business. If they were looking for a few free blogs, couple of press releases, and a brochure, they wouldn’t have granted me access to crash their entire site.
It’s just I really want the check in the mailbox — not the mail.