I am foraying into the world of self-employ.  While I’ve been freelancing for almost a year, I am now at the point where the work I’m doing is enough to cut back my office-work schedule to 3 days/week, and I have more than enough work to do the remaining 4 days/week for my main client.  I’ve fantasized for years about working for myself; it’s quite a different story when confronted with the reality of the thing, am I right?  I don’t say this as a negative, it’s simply an adjustment in both daily habits and practices, and in mentality/perception. I’m loving it so far, and getting more disciplined about my work habits, primarily because I can see how easy it is to simply work all the time. Although, this isn’t really anything new for me, I’m fond of being a busy-busy-bee! I can also see the necessity of getting out and spending time with people, ie volunteering, and participating in a writing group (of which, incidentally, I found a really great one last week! through the Hennepin County Library system.  Have I ever mentioned how much I looooove the library? Home away from home for this word nerd!).

What I love about working from home, more than anything, is that I get to decide my schedule.  I do not enjoy the necessity of being at an office for a prescribed number of hours during a set time frame. This has always made me a little cray-cray, though I’ve spent years trying to convince myself that it’s what I need to adjust to to make a living in this world.  I’m soooo happy to be finding out that there are other options- and they’re even viable options!  What I love about freelance writing is, well, writing.  Because the more you do of something you love, the more you do of something you love! Or, something to the effect of, “Do what you love, and you’ll never work a day in your life.” While some may debunk this as bad career advice, I say it’s completely true!

At the moment, I’m taking a break from writing about various types of cancer for clients (just a little light writing for a Monday, thank you very much!).  These are the ways I like to give my mind a rest:

  • More writing, ovbi.  Though it’s nice to be able to vent the randomness in my brain
  • Trail running.  Today @ Lebanon Hills Regional Park, which is a bit of a jaunt, but definitely worth it.  It was grey and dreary, which made the leaves still clinging to the branches scream their vibrant colors.  I f’ing love autumn in Minnesota!
  • Regular running, too.
  • Or walking along the mighty Mississipp’, which is nearby.
  • Doing headstands, a la B.K.S. Iyengar. Like this:   Ha!  No, more like this:Except sh!ttier, with a lot of confused adjusting happening throughout.
  • Playing Words with Friends with a guy I used to date.  I suppose he would be considered some sort of ex, though he wasn’t technically a boyfriend (of course, this is my attitude about our relationship now. Had you asked while we were dating, he probably was considered a boyfriend.  Still, there needs to be some sort of nomenclature pertaining to people you formerly dated.  Ex… datees? No. Come up with something and leave it in the comments, if you would!).  Anyhoo, it’s weird because we don’t talk, but I soooooo want to beat him, so we keep playing.
  • Eat food.  Make food.  Think about going to get food or ordering food.  Looking at food in the cupboards. Making more coffee to drink for when my break is over.
  • Facebooking, tweeting, et cetera.  Truly, an addiction.  (Feel free to friend ‘n’ follow, btw.)
  • Daydreaming about getting a French Bulldog.
  • Perusing adopt-a-dog sites, searching for vicarious puppy-love
  • Many, many other interesting things.

What do you do on your breaks, peeps who work from home and otherwise?  I’m always fascinated by how people spend their downtime… or procrastinate-time.



I am melancholy as can be, still.  I don’t know what it is, though I had a thought tonight.

I’ve been home a month, and, while I’ve come significantly closer to finding a job, I’m still not sure what’s next.  I get so excited when I come home, partially simply because I’m home and not offshore or in Louisiana, but also because there’s possibility.  There’s the chance that something new might come up, and there’s all this time in front of me.  But as the weeks progress, time starts to weigh on me.  I know it’s only a matter of time before the phone rings and my idyllic daily routine is shattered into a million tiny bits of waiting on decisions and making travel arrangements and packing bags and replenishing supplies.  And the feeling that there’s something else out there begins to wane, and it brings me down.  It’s also that, under it all, I’m a gypsy, and after a while, I want to be moving; hence, the SOD:

Jimmy Page & Robert Plant / Ramble On

The way I feel about offshore is confusing.  I like the job well enough, and it’s fun to putter, but there are so many rules, and the seclusion of being offshore for weeks at a time really wears a girl down after a while.  I’ve also come to realize that, even though I’m perfectly comfortable being a tiny minority offshore (as a woman), it’s very marginalizing. I’ll never be one of the guys (nor do I want to be!), so the guys tend to watch their behavior, and I’m not completely myself, so it’s this funny little dance we do.  And it’s a very, very lonely life.   I also just feel like an interloper.  I don’t feel like I’m supposed to be there.  It’s not because anyone has ever made me feel unwelcome- quite the opposite.  It’s just that I’m starting to look around and think, “WHAT am I DOING here??”  Because I’m not particularly good at the job, and I don’t have a ton of interest going forward to get better at it, simply because the necessary skill set has nothing really to do with any of my strengths.  I’m also a college-educated, well-read and well-traveled, 30-something female from Minnesota.  There’s just nothing organic about my presence on an oil rig.

But what do I do now?  I may just have burned my bridges with OII at this point.  And the door feels shut.  I just don’t want to try anymore, but where to go when there’s no clear path ahead?  I feel just untethered and directionless.  Like the control is out of my hands, and it’s not that I don’t trust something will present itself, it’s just scary not knowing what’s ahead.