Half a year is half a year, and for many workers that translates to regularization, promotion or even instant celebrity. But for those who can speak out, six months of freelance work is something they would want, to just try it out, see what happens, earn a little less or even a little more and have something they'd get excited to do every single waking day.
Sure it was cluttered and spontaneous and a little reclusive, but it was not necessarily so. I could've shut down computer twice a day to meet people and clients more often.
No boss, no charts, no checklists. Only tight deadlines and clients always trying to be nice to get a discount. There were days when work was zero, by choice, but there were also packed weekends to try to squeeze in the smallest projects for almost naught. Hectic. But fun fun fun.
No boss, no charts, no checklists. Only tight deadlines and clients always trying to be nice to get a discount. There were days when work was zero, by choice, but there were also packed weekends to try to squeeze in the smallest projects for almost naught. Hectic. But fun fun fun.
The downside? Minimal team work, the inhuman feel of interacting through chat interfaces and text messages and the haunting uncertainty of whether this suspicious client would lay down what was agreed upon after the work is done. Not to mention, the burden of paying taxes and having no one else to deal with BIR.
Next time, I'll write about what I'm into now. But as someone has already noticed, I hardly fulfill my promises in this blog.
