I’ve got more work than I know what to do with… Well, okay, that’s not quite fair. I have a lot of work, but I know what to do with it. Finish it on time. See, not that complex!
When I quit working for an employer, I had several income streams figured out, and I approached it with the idea I’d do most anything legal and reasonable to bring in some cash. Clean houses, babysit, be a Virtual Assistant, have a phone advice line, temp… I didn’t care as long as I was working for myself. As wonderful as the job I left was (and I really did work with some great people in a fantastic environment), I Just Don’t Like Office Work. I didn’t leave to flee the Job from Hell, but because I needed a change and needed to be working for myself.
I am actually a little surprised that writing has become a big enough part of my income (most of it, these days) that I’m not thinking so much in terms of finding multiple income streams doing radically different things as I am thinking in terms of being a full-time freelance writer. Not all of my income is from writing. I teach computer applications, too. But, I’m almost at the point where I could quit that if I wanted to and only write.
Here’s the cool part. The teaching? I’m doing that because it’s fun. How cool is that? I wouldn’t give it up. If I had a J.K. Rowling-style success at fiction (and none of my income comes from fiction), I’d still want to teach. I don’t think I’d love it full time like I do writing nearly full time. I’d burn out. But a few classes a month? Bring it on!
I’m feeling slow today. I can’t believe I got my lazy butt to the gym this morning. You know those workouts when you’re having a great time, the blood is pumping and you feel like a God? Yeah, well, today wasn’t one of ’em. The best I can say is that I did what I planned I would do. I saw a woman in the gym today that was monster strong. I saw her at the squat rack with an empty bar and though, “No way did she get muscle development on her legs like that squatting 45lbs!”
I was right. That was her warmup set. She was doing pyramids and when I left she was squatting something like 155lbs. (She was teeny, too. ‘Bout my height, but with very little body fat). I commented to a trainer there, “Someday.”
“Yeah, she’s really strong,” quoth he.
It made me feel good, because he knew immediately I was envying the strength more than anything. You have no idea how much I enjoy being in a gym where strength and fitness in women is considered a great goal without pushing skinny, skinny, skinny all the time.