I think I really need to find something else to do with my life. How many people would enjoy a job where they never get a pay raise, never get funds for mileage and yet are supposed to produce more, and produce it faster than when they first began? No, I am not talking about mothering–the world’s true oldest profession, I am talking about my life choice as a freelance writer.
Six years I have been writing for a certain newspaper and for six years it has not been enough money. Finally I put my size six foot down and told the powers that be that I am desperate and need some extra cash for gas.
Instead of hearing, ‘Oh Karen, you are right–Sorry for overlooking this–we have been in the dark ages for years”–I get ignored–blackballed–left alone with nothing.
That’s the way they punish you, by giving you nothing and giving the work to those writers who don’t mind driving 45 minutes each way to cover a two hour meeting and then cranking it out in a half hour to meet deadline. All of that for a whopping 55 bucks! Wow, I figured out with the gas and my time that it amounted to about $3 an hour–my 13 year son makes more than that mowing our lawn!
Somebody help me here–before the next words you hear out of my mouth are ‘ya want fries with that?”