The absurd life of the self-employed

Right now I’m at a bar. It’s 4:08pm local time, and I’m on my second glass of wine (sure, it’s probably not the best time to be writing a blog post for my personal website, but hey, I live on the edge.)

The people behind the bar are not like bartenders during peak hours. They’re swearing, and training a new girl who is genuinely trying but is clearly overwhelmed by her duties.

(It’s also strangely voyeuristic to be writing about them on this screen that’s literally two feet from them without them knowing it.)

This is the life of the self-employed as I’m currently living it.

I got a haircut at 2pm, and then thought, since I’m downtown, and since my current freelance writing assignment was pretty damn boring, and since happy hour is so awesome, I deserved a glass of happy hour wine while researching it.

People at restaurants at 4pm on a Tuesday are interesting.

They’re either eating lunch, meaning they got up like five hours ago, or they’re completely unconcerned by schedules and are just consuming food and beverages because they feel like it.

I’m neither of those things.

I actually came here to do work. I really did.

I finished research on the boring article, and then decided to have another glass of wine to celebrate.

(I’m on a clean eating/no drinking regimen at my house, meaning there is no wine there. It’s dark days.)

So here I sit, using my mild wine buzz to produce a blog post while the guy next to me at the bar drinks a shot of fernet. (No, I don’t know what that is either.)

My life is weird right now. And very cool. And often scary.

I kind of like it.

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