My husband says playing lotto is for people who are really, really bad at math. It’s a lot like health insurance. Denying people health insurance coverage means someone out there is really, really bad at math. But many of us don’t have a choice; it’s simply not part of the employment options of our chosen career path. Or the job we love. Or the job we have to do to
I thought I got a small gig recently, especially when I said I’d do all their local charity stuff pro bono. We clicked, she liked me, I liked her. All was good in the world. But then this smart, smart woman asked me a grand slam question: “Who wouldn’t I work for? What’s off limits?” I immediately replied, “No one. Nope, can’t think of anyone I wouldn’t work for. Nothing
Here’s the scoop: I can write practically anything in a couple hours. Brochures, space advertisements, blogs, annual reports, newsletters, eblasts, promo copy, whatever. Longer pieces, longer hours, but I can get it done. I’m apparently still good at it and people pay me. Go figure! I’m on the road again! I’m working! I’m a copywriter! Way back when, outnumbered by kids and the energy in, energy out equation left me
My small-town paper ran an article on a local marketing firm celebrating 10 years of business. It’s a great little firm; all women, minority-owned, successful. In those 10 years, this woman started in her living room and now employs 4 other women, and perhaps, just maybe, me. I sent them a quick pitch letter, congratulating their 10 years of business, and saying coincidently, 10 years ago, I shelved mine to
I thought I’d be blogging under complete anonymity. I mean, duh. Women@Work is a placement firm, and really, I do hope to keep working. Writing about work and women issues in the marketplace where you hope to one day be gainfully employed, well it’s a long shot for big mouths like me. But writing anonymously lets me say what I want and people can relate . . . or not . .
So you’re schmoozing with newly met people, and the inevitable question arises, “Soooo, what do you do?” I often answer: “I stay home,” which gets all-knowing, humpf!, freeloader-type nods from one side of the aisle, and looks of relief and exuberance from the other. Depending on the audience, sometimes I answer “just a mom” and the patronizing, condescending ‘only the most important job on earth’ is their automatic response. Just
It’s the dog days of summer and it’s slow. Slow as in, NO ONE has work; agencies are quiet, businesses pinching pennies, and freelancers wondering where are all the jobs? Is anybody working? It’s stagnant, like the thick humid air, and it’s getting harder to breathe. And I get a call. Straight from a client — a newbie — ‘we hear you write.’ Can I help them out? Welllll, let me check
Let’s just say this working, not working, freelancing, stay-at-home, flex-time, tele-commuting, blogging life I’m living is not really an on-ramp, off-ramp situation. It’s more like the movie we’ve all seen but never admit to: Chevy Chase’s European Vacation. Remember? “Look kids, Big Ben!” Constant chaos, but with moments of clarity, beauty and humor that make the trip worthwhile. Take for instance, my first, real, live, paying, back-to-work experience in um, let’s say, about 2½ kids: