Reclaim. Reunion. Resume.

The thing I've found in working for yourself is you work harder than you ever did working for someone else.


It's been a while since I've blogged; somehow, in my quest to reclaim my life, time's gotten away from me. It's true; since we switched from print 'n' Web to Web-only, I've been staking a claim on resuming a somewhat "normal" life. OK, so it's not fully what it was. I don't go to an office every day. I don't spend my time working for "the man." I don't have a regular paycheck and a 401(k) plan.

But I've been trying to have a weekend again, whatever that means. Not work seven days a week, day and night. Spend time with friends—time that isn't at a concert or a show or another cultural event. Work around the house or in the yard again. (I swear, our neighbors must think we're such white trash. Ever since we began the magazine, one corner of our backyard has been piled with old issues and boxes. Now, thanks to the miracles of recycling—and not adding to the pile—we have almost exhausted our piles and resumed something of, well, a yard.

The thing I've found in working for yourself is you work harder than you ever did working for someone else. You have only yourself to blame if the money doesn't come in. You have clients you have to satisfy and only yourself to make them happy. But when you love what you do, somehow the extra hours, work, stress, poverty…it's all OK.

This weekend, I went to my high school reunion. I skipped the last one, but somehow this one felt necessary somehow. I wasn't fond of high school; most of the memories I have of that time are of depression and not belonging and struggling to figure out who I was. Most of my friends did not go to my high school. But still, I was curious. And, well, I finally know who I am. So I wanted to take that person to the reunion, and see what had become of all the people I barely knew. A lot of the cliques are still cliques, but they're not closed like they once were. They just keep in touch, raise their children together, hang out together. I was surprised by the number of stay-at-home moms in my well-educated graduating class.

I realized it's OK that I didn't enjoy high school; in fact, it's probably a good thing. If high school's the high point of your life, then what do you have to look forward to? It's all downhill after 18. That's pretty sad.

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