I was out all day. It’s no big deal, even though it’s a Wednesday and I should have been working. I don’t have a lot to work on at the moment, so I thought, Why not? and off I went to run errands. But all day there was this idea in the back of my mind that I might be missing something important—somebody might be desperate for a piece of art that has to get done today, or a call about a job might come in. The front of my mind was certain that nothing like this was going to happen, but the back of my mind was really worrying about it. So by the time I got home, the front of my mind was starting to get concerned. What if I just lost a job? What if a client was angry?

But, of course, there was nothing. No messages, no emails, no one knew I hadn’t been sitting in front of the computer all day. So, good, right? Not really. I’m finding that this freelance gig has turned me invisible. If someone needs me to do something, suddenly I’m a person, answering the phone or returning an email. Otherwise, I’m not really here. Kind of like a light bulb. Is it really there if it isn’t on?

So why is it that I have to be working before I feel real? Is reality all about work? Does my existence depend on me doing things for other people? Can’t I just be a real person who isn’t working?

Am I the only one who thinks about this stuff?

This is me. Not working.


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