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Somehow, through the vagaries of the universe, I seem to have landed a freelance writing job. Just typing that out made my heart leap into my throat. I am simultaneously exhilarated and terrified, as seems to be my typical reaction to most things that matter. Of course, this isn’t typical. I’ve wanted to be a writer since, well, since always, but I’ve never had a job in which my writing ability was anything more than a convenience for my employer. An afterthought, and certainly not the reason I was hired. To be hired based solely on my ability to write is incredible, and more than a little scary. Getting something I’ve wanted this much for this long brings with it the risk of failure, and fear of failure has been a huge roadblock for me. What happens if I can’t pull it off? Writing on command and in a specific format is a great deal more demanding than the stream-of-consciousness writing I do here. It’s not that I don’t think about and try to perfect the things I write here… God knows I do, endlessly, sometimes. But then it’s my thoughts I am working with, and my own expectations I am trying to satisfy. Living up to someone else’s judgment is something else entirely, and it’s more than a little intimidating.

This feels fragile and tenuous, and I’m almost afraid to breathe too hard, as if the job is a feather balanced delicately on the palm of my hand. I’m afraid to talk about it and afraid to celebrate it, as if the act of acknowledgement will cause the job to vanish. So of course I have to put my thoughts about it here, because I’m still me, and if I don’t write about it, it isn’t real.

A freelance writing job. Me. Wow. Just wow.

So of course my first challenge is the whole working-from-home conundrum. Chris has been working late a lot, and as I know I have mentioned a few hundred times, Avery is not accommodating. By the time Chris makes it home, I’ve spent 10-12 hours trying to entertain/comfort/placate her, which means my reserves are running low. It’s hard to just leap up and get started at that point, which means I find myself instead making mental notes throughout the day on overall concepts, various directions, etc. It’s been working fairly decently so far, but I also know I am going to reach a place where I will require an uninterrupted block of time to flesh out some of those ideas. I am guessing that means the weekend. It’s going to be interesting, this experiment. Very interesting.

The thing I need to remember about feathers is that even though they appear soft and delicate, when they fall, they float.

I can do this.