I’m not sure anyone really cares, or if this post is even necessary for anything other than to make myself feel less guilty about pushing my hobby writing on the backburner. For those who follow this madness, you know I quit my career a while back to pursue this writing stuff – primarily freelance writing so that I can still pay my bills… because that kind of shit is important.
Despite the intentions of following my passion, I picked up this waitressing gig for extra cash and before I knew it I was meeting fascinating, awesome people. People who I never would have crossed paths with if I didn’t decide to give this writing thing a whirl. After the people, came the realization that I’d completely forgotten just how lucrative waiting tables can be.
Who the hell needs to freelance when I can socialize, have fun, and make bank?!
And that friends, is when the writing went back into hobby mode.
I started a book which has been re-titled about 3 times and is still in no shape to be read by the general public, bitched about
Donald Trump politics, and shared my own, Me Too, story. I gave some solid tips on how to gain weight, and went a little nutty ranting about gym class.
I love writing. I love sitting here playing with words and allowing my thoughts to just fly out in any way I choose to direct them.
I’ve missed it.
It’s been over a month since I’ve posted anything new and I’ve barely even checked my stats…I don’t even know who I am anymore. So, this is where the story turns and I tell you that I’ve been freelancing for the last month and I’m kinda fangirling over it bit.
People are giving me real dollars to twist words around for them. Not that I’ve ever been someone who needs validation, but that’s some fucking validation. Not only do I write for these people…I’m editing. I get to play with other people’s words, and it’s almost as enjoyable as playing with my own.
I’m not going to make any false promises about posting and making time to write on Properly Ridiculous this time. I’ve done that in the past and then I just feel like a failure when it doesn’t happen – but failure isn’t in my vocabulary presently – because I’m an actual Freelance writer. Boom, I did it.
I’ll be ranting, raving, and storytelling as I have time…Imma go make some money.