Freelancing pitfalls

When I started freelancing, I was told it would be difficult to abandon the comforts of a routine and manage my time in the best way possible. For the first few months of "self-employment", this wasn't much of a problem – my schedule was so packed that the question of what to do with free time never arose (there wasn't any). But in recent weeks, having cut down on assignments (and thus scaled my workload more or less back to the level where it was when I was a regular employee), I find new psychological barriers to be overcome.

The weekday-weekend divide, for instance. In my first job in journalism, I regularly worked Sundays (including graveyard shifts from Saturday night-Sunday morning) and quite enjoyed it. And after that, even when I wasn't officially working on weekends, I managed some of my most relaxed, productive writing on Sundays. This attitude seemed to fit in with the requirements of freelancing, where the line between weekdays and weekends either completely disappears or blurs significantly. Depending on my deadlines, the way I schedule my assignments and my other plans for the week, it's theoretically possible to spend most of Saturday and Sunday working and then take it easy on Monday and Tuesday.

But that's theoretically. In practice, this is what happens: an atavistic voice in my brain whispers, "It's Monday afternoon, how can you not be working?!" Even if I stay up till past 3 AM writing (which I often do, the world and its Pomeranians being asleep at that hour), then rise at 7 AM to go swimming and then put in another session of work between 10 AM-1 PM, my reptile brain rebels against the idea of even a short afternoon nap to compensate for lack of night sleep.

So one frets instead. And snaps angrily when friends calls up, hear the dispirited "Hello" and go "Oh sorry, were you sleeping? I keep forgetting that you no longer work." No longer work! Like a toy bunny without a Duracell in its belly.

And if it's a weekday afternoon and nothing demands my immediate attention for the next 2-3 hours, do I pick up a book or play an unwatched DVD? NO, shouts the primitive voice, you can't do something like that at a time of day when friends and ex-colleagues are toiling away in their offices! It's just wrong. (Never mind that given the nature of my job, watching films and reading books count as value addition. Never mind too that even while I struggle with this profound ethical dilemma, the friends and colleagues in question are more likely taking hundreds of tea and cigarette breaks and bitching about who got what increments.)

Other hazards –

Relatives. I've spent most of my adult life avoiding all but the most necessary ones. Now it's impossible to escape them. I open my door and step into the living-room unaware that there are visitors about, and there they are sitting in a row – numerous fond faces that chant, "Ohh, Jai baba ghar pe hai?" Then one must sit and smile while wedding talk commences and they wonder aloud what good can come of sitting at home and how will bride be obtained when I don't have a job.

Power cuts. I used to think journalists were omnipotent. Now I find to my dismay that brandishing a press card and demanding immediate restoration of power fails to impress the people at the Electricity Board office. Instead of genuflecting and pulling at levers that will get transformers working again, they look at each other, roll their eyes and laugh like Gabbar's sideys. Meanwhile my laptop continues to discharge, the Tata Indicom beeps frantically, the cellphone says Battery Low, and ex-colleagues in office are still bitching and drinking tea – and they have the air-conditioner on as well.

(To be continued)