A print designer who now finds herself in a digital world, Homegirl blogs about the perils and joys of freelancing. They both involve wearing pajamas all day.
A few years ago, if you’d asked me to work on-site, I would have kindly responded with, “Yeah, I really don’t do the office thing, but I’ll pop in for some face time if you need me to.” Makes you want to slap me in the face, right? Well, don’t worry, the economy did it for you.
I’m a print designer in an almost paperless world. But my rent is still due at the first of every month. So with my tail between my legs, for a fee the old me would have laughed at, I will happily show up at your office at the ungodly hour of 10 am. I will even shower for you and wear a carefully orchestrated ensemble that shows that I’m cool and creative and kick ass at design.
You will not notice, however, because you will be texting as you distractedly escort me to the “freelancer work station.” You know the one. It’s next to the heating pipe that hisses all day, on that part of the floor that slopes just enough to keep my chair rolling away from the desk. I will spend most of the day sifting through files and trying to decipher what the last freelancer was trying to accomplish. The other designers will all have headphones on and will ignore the newbie, except when I mime that I desperately need to know where the ladies room is. All in all, I’ll get about one third of the work done had I done this job at home in my sweats. But this was fun! Same time tomorrow?
