The Black Hole (Or An Existential Crisis Of A Freelancer)

The Black Hole (Or An Existential Crisis Of A Freelancer)

10 things your freelancer friend wants to say.

(This post was written on Saturday 0046hrs, but published at 1143hrs)

It’s 46 minutes past midnight. After two hours of trying and failing to fall asleep, I’ve decided it’s not working out. I should do something else. So here I am.

Rewind to 2245hrs, Friday night: I had gone to bed early with hopes of sleeping away a throbbing headache. Lying in pain alone in the dark led me instead to circle black thoughts, including but not limited to the unanswerable question of WhatTheHellAmIDoingTryingToWriteSlashEditFreelanceForALiving, which from here on I shall refer collectively to as The Black Hole.

Some minutes later, I leave the blackness of the bedroom to look for The Husband, who is in the living room, in the middle of a very exciting PS4 game.

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