Graduating Again?

So, I might be graduating again.

This time from safety.

It seems to me that all the sayings which dance around the truth (that greater risk can mean greater reward) forget the importance of the risk portion of the idiom. Using my time to write, be it KitchenAid articles for an Australian contractor, or blog posts for my own website development, has helped me realize the danger which exist with each and every venture we undertake.

It would have been so much easier to pursue a "normal" job. I mean, knowing the hours you will have, the money you will make, and the time you will spend is a comfort, a hedge against the fledgling economy. Even in that action, however, there exists hazard. If you lose your "normal" job, where does the next month's rent come from? If you don't receive a raise, will you ever move on? All actions come with threats to safety, and no amount of plans can guard against them all. There is, however, reward for the risk.

You blow the yellow light, you might get to the movie on time. You blow the red light, you might find the metal of your car twisted into another. Was the risk worth it? I guess it might depend on the movie. I find that calculating the costs and benefits can be a great arrow of direction, but that even that can spin us towards a winding path.

If, however, you refuse to stay in that twisted direction, in that doldrum of progress, risk becomes nearly non-existent. I have felt my hair stand on end, and it always, always sits back down. Take the risk because, after all, what is there to lose?

The Real Life: Money Money Money (and freelancing)

In this world, living costs money. I graduated from naivety a few days ago, only to walk into a distaste for reality. While freelancing I wondered, "are the articles I am writing about car insurance, Kitchenaid products, and paint drying on walls worth the time?" The answer is no. It's worth money, money that pays for me to live in this day and age. Money to buy Cheetohs, pay loan bills, and, of course, purchase classics tunes like this one:

So, after five hours of existential crises, I went back to freelancing. It had to be done. Really it did. I couldn't live on the side of the street, not because it was impossible, but because it was illegal. I couldn't go live in the woods, because I didn't own any forests. I couldn't even sleep in my car, because we are required to keep up with auto insurance. Auto insurance alone would cost me five to ten freelancing articles. No, living without money is not only frowned upon, it is illegal. I am, for all intensive purposes, tied to the system. That's okay, we all are.

Really, it's okay, we all are.