In just three days I'll officially be a freelance writer. Again. In preparation for yet another round of life changes (do they ever really end?), I've been trying to remember all the mistakes I made the last time I tried my hand at the independent life.
A good friend who knows me all too well suggested not long ago that I reserve February to be a "Lady of Leisure." She threw down an ultimate challenge: Don't take any new work, don't schedule any meetings, don't set an agenda. Just be. For four weeks. See how it goes when your mind actually has a chance to find some peace.
So, next week I'm meeting with an editor to go over assignments I've already accepted, I'm helping to throw a Race with Purpose fund-raising party in New York, which will double as a time to kick-start our marketing plan on Saturday and meet with our Team Grant Advisory Committee after a 20K race in Connecticut on Sunday. Somehow in the course of scheduling time with friends in Pennsylvania mid-month, I was persuaded to be a guest speaker at a Penn State journalism class.
Have I mentioned what my triathlon training schedule looks like yet?
All of this is not to say that I'm not going to enjoy most--if not all--of it. But it is to say that I have learned that I am just no "Lady of Leisure." I'd love to be that lady. But I don't know how. I think I'm scared of not having any plans or something.
What exactly causes somebody to be such a complete spaz? If you have any theories, please, let me know.