The Secret Life of a Freelancer

Now I've been working from home, both on a freelance and work from home basis for a while now. And while there were some lessons I knew were headed my way (notably those to do with hiding the TV remote & keeping away from 'fridge gazing' during work hours) there are other observations I've made and lessons I've learned along the way that have surprised me. Fellow work from homers will no doubt recognise some, if not all of these, and if they don't perhaps it's just me being weird. Either ways I've written them down, and I hereby share them with you, you lucky, lucky thing.  

I'm in there somewhere.... I promise.

1. The Neighbours
As the person that is often in during the day, you become the receptacle for all kinds of packages being delivered to your neighbours who are out working their 9-5. From chocolates (I could tell by sniffing the box), to gorgeous bouquets of flowers that to all intents and purposes ought to be yours really, to entire bleedin' sets of furniture ordered off Amazon (seriously, you can order a whole table and chairs suite off AMAZON? And then not even be in to take delivery of it? Pleaaaaase bitch!), meaning your working from home neighbour can become your very best friend, or worst enemy depending on how you play it. Fortunately I never snaffled those chocolates, nor did I bedeck my apartment with nefariously obtained blooms, and consequently my neighbours owe me one if not several.... A handy situation for when you're cartwheeling into your apartment block, loudly & perhaps more than a little tipsy at 11.30pm on a school night, following a trip to the pub banishing cabin fever (see point 4) with your fellow freelancers. 


2. The school holidays

Yup. That's me

Now, previously as a traditional 9-5er, I saw the school holidays as some kind of manna from heaven. Hurrah hurray, calloo callay! No more grotty school kids clogging up the bus aisles with their MAHOOSIVE bags and penchant for standing right by the stairs, thereby ensuring no one can ascend or descend without a battle through the afore mentioned MAHOOSIVE bags. School holidays are AWESOME I thought!! Now, working from home? Not so much with the celebration of the holidays, for now I rejoice for peace and quiet of term time. And I'm pleased to say now that teaching is back in progress I will no longer feel the urge to sniper style supersoak the squealing, squawking urchins, freewheeling round my estate at great volume under my living room window all day long. A grumpy old woman? Yes. But I'm shit hot with a super soaker so don't mess with me peace & quiet, I've got spreadsheets to tidy!

3. The 'Look'
Fellow work from homers will know 'the look'. It's that look we get when we say we work from home, and the 9-5ers glance at you with a strange mixture of resentment and disgust. “Lucky you” they say, “wouldn't it be nice to be able to sit around in my pyjamas all day, watching TV & eating biscuits”. All the while, giving you THAT look. Well 9-5er, I'm very sorry that your office doesn't have enough biscuits to stifle your burning resentment, but it's not all about biscuits and PJs I'll have you know! For let me take you on to the concept of Cabin Fever.

4. Cabin Fever

Make his a Grande, Quad, Nonfat,
One-Pump, No-Whip, Mocha...
with sprinkles obvs

You lot, you think our life is all mocha choca macchiatos with soy milk foam and sprinkles. It is, I think you assume, only the thrum of beanie hat wearing, mac keyboard bashing freelancers that keeps our local, organically sourced coffee shop alive. But the reality is far different. Although I obviously get out and about seeing my customers and suchlike, but most of the time it's just me, sat in these 4 walls, looking out the same windows, with very no one to chat to face to face (no beanie wearers in sight – if only cos I can't stand the smell of coffee). And frankly, that gets me more than a little wild eyed at the best of times. You 9-5ers have your water cooler chit chat, your “ooh did you see Bake Off last night?”, your “what did you get up to at the weekend?”. I have none of that. I have my plants and my own reflection to natter to to, and when things get VERY desperate, the staff behind the till at Sainsburys. Yes it's me holding up that queue, sorry, but even us work from homers need a bit of human contact every now and then, don't resent my natter please, cos it's either that or I'll go wild in the aisles with a butternut squash and no one wants that. Not least Sainsburys. So basically it's not all sunshine, roses, PJs and biscuits in this here world of working from home, though speaking of which....

 5. The biscuits
Rejoice with me my fellow freelancers! Let us celebrate our little lonely existence, squirreling away at our work in flats, houses and rented spaces the country over. For we are no longer ruled by the tyranny that is the office biscuit tin! No more stale custard creams for me, no siree! No more soggy shortbread rounds left til the very last, as for that pink wafer number, well that can Get To F*ck. I've got my own biscuit tastes (dark chocolate digestive natch) and I aint afraid to indulge it. No one's nicking my biccies leaving me the literal crumbs. Well, except my mum, but she asks nicely so that's fair enough.

6. The PJs
Ok ok, technically we could work in our PJs. I mean, anyone could really, but granted you 9-5ers might get an odd look on the tube (then again, maybe not, I once saw someone dressed as a banana on the rush hour tube and no one batted an eyelid. London eh?). But it is a much alleged complaint, us work from homers are sat lazing around in our pants while you office workers are struggling through your day, wearing y'know clothes. Well, in my experience, I've found that PJs do not a solid of day of work make. There's something ever so 'sleep over' about it. Something of the hungover Sunday morning watching T4, equipped with nothing but our tea and loungewear. And while I must admit I am partial to a onesie in the winter and knickers in the summer (curtains closed natch, I don't want to undo all my neighbour's goodwill in one fell swoop), ever since last month when while working in me altogether, and I had that got that sudden realisation that the IT helpdesk man remote controlling my computer also had access to my webcam should he desire it, nudity in my workplace has gone out the window forever..... Or at least when IT phones. 

I feel your pain Mr Helpdesk man

Audrie, Daisy and Paige

So, today is a day like most others. Starting off with a bit of faffing, an abashed opening the door to the postman while STILL in my dressing gown (he's used to this by now) and a flick through the papers online over a pre work cuppa, and it was here (in the Guardian natch) where I read a small article which has kinda thrown my thoughts outta whack for the day. You see, it was an article about a new Netflix documentary coming up, and the subject being the violent sexual attacks on 2 american school girls. It's not so much Netflix and chill as Netflix and be rather disturbed, and really one should be disturbed. After all we hear a lot abut these kind of incidents, from your Brock Turners to the rather strange (in the UK at least) worlds of Greek frathouse parties, and none of it appears to be very good, for either the young men or young women growing up nowadays.

The stories of these girls (Audrie, Daisy and Paige) are disturbingly similar despite the very big geographic and cultural differences in these girls lives. They were young (Audrie aged 15, Daisy aged 14 & Paige just 13 years old ), went to a party with their school friends, all imbibed alcohol, and got raped (by their 'friends' I remind you). The young women in question, girls still, were subsequently bullied non stop on social media, victim blamed, their families vilified, abused and attacked. But there is difference... as a result of the online and offline bullying Audrie was on the end of, she killed herself, whereas despite several attempts at the same, Daisy is still alive and tells her horrific tale with Paige. Geez, I think back to my school years where I also got bullied pretty much throughout, I'd never want that experience again, but kids nowadays? With all the social media bullying that goes on, the torment that doesn't even stop when you cross over your doorstep into your home that should be your sanctuary? God, these poor kids. There simply is no escape, I feel so hard for them.

But why did this strike a chord today of all days? I'm not sure. Perhaps it is due to several recent exposures of misogyny on Twitter (verbal, not dick pics I hasten to add) that I've had in recent weeks. Also it's part down to several conversations I've had on dates recently, meeting questions such a as 'is the fight for female equality really so necessary any more?', 'does rape culture really exist?' and 'c'mon, it's not like sexual harassment is such a problem nowadays is it?'. To which the answers are obviously 'yes', 'yes', and for the third time, errrrr 'yes'.

It struck a further chord, being of the age I am now, seeing as I have lots of friends who are raising young children. And I have some great male friends who are being fantastic fathers, bringing boys and girls into this world and teaching them the ways of it. And while I'm sure that these great men (& women!) will be raising great sons (and I'm sure teaching them about the ways of consent, relationships, and what being a man is truly about), it is for their daughters I fear. For despite the many decades passing since the bra burning of the 60s and 70s, I'm still being asked these questions of whether equality is really such an issue, and it IS. Because of this, I am sure that many new dads of daughters the world over will be looking at things in a new light. They may be realising that the world absolutely still is a scary place for women, an unequal place for women, for while Audrie, Paige and Daisy were being attacked by entitled young men, those same young men were nigh on guaranteed protection for their crimes, all as a reward for their triumphs of teenage athleticism (we all remember Brock Turner). Disgusting isn't it?

It's interesting to note that apparently one indicator that’s likely to have a major impact on a man’s response when you ask him about gender inequality: whether or not he has a daughter. Dads with daughters are far more likely to likely to champion the cause of women than those with sons I think, and this is played out in the evidence. Researchers at the University of British Columbia discovered that fathers who do their share of the housework raise daughters who aspire to broader career goals, including in traditionally male-dominated, often higher paid fields. Another example can be found in a Danish study which revealed that male CEOs who have daughters are more likely to close the gender pay gap at their companies.

Now, I'm not saying that Audrie, Paige and Daisy didn't have feminist dads who didn't advise them well enough about just how unequal this world is, and how they can mitigate it. Far from it. For it is with young MEN that these conversations need to be had, not with young women. Every woman knows the fear of walking home late at night, and know that should she get attacked, there will be people tutting that she deserved it (I know I felt like people would do the same when I got sexually assaulted on one summer's day in a low cut top). After all, it's dark out, or she was wearing a short skirt, or she shouldn't have had that last glass of wine or, or or.....! Where are these people having that same conversation with the young men of the world? It's not to do with skirt length, alcohol or how well lit the road is, it's about rape. Taking something that is not yours. Taking it without consent. Your entitlement being more valued than someone else's lifetime of trauma. It's not about talking to your daughters, it's about talking to your sons. And until those conversations happen the world over, until (some!) men stop taking what they feel entitled to, there will always be a Paige, a Daisy or an Audrie, and this saddens me.

So while I don't look forward to watching this Netflix documentary (due to be released on 23^rd September fact fans), I will be. It's no popcorn and fizzy pop feel good movie that's for sure, it's a depressing condemnation of the society that many young people are growing up in right now. But one can only hope that while it may not feel good, hopefully it will do some good, for the sake of young women everywhere.

P.S Normal blogging services of Sophie's life o pitfalls will resume shortly, and I hope you don't mind this minor distraction on the way.