My freelance experience over the past 7 years hasn't been that great. I don't like it. I don't have a middle-class safety net (i.e., a male partner with a tech job) or an upper-class safety net (i.e., a sugar daddy) and so freelancing has been stressful for me.
My "7 years" means the 3 years I lived in New York City (2007-2010) and the years since I've been back in Austin (2010-2014). During which I have done nothing but freelance and temp jobs -- excitedly so in NYC until the market crashed in '08, and ever since then, desperately.
Since 2007, I've written about my temp woes online. Some online creeps I know (like Bryan Johnson, for instance) made a point of publicly telling me what a loser I was for not being able to "get a job."
Aside from the online creeps, I also felt embarrassed whenever my nephews asked me why my apartment was so small. Unlike the creeps, the kids were just asking me out of honesty -- their own parents had a house, and so why didn't I?
Long story short: I'm now an Editor II. After 7 years in the wilderness of temping/freelancing "because I wanted to go explore," kiddos. The 10-year-olds will understand one day. I'm sure the bar-back never will. Below, again, is the Paul McCartney song that's been in my head for the past 2 weeks and that is right now my soundtrack for feeling absolutely GOOD.