I quit a bunch of jobs recently and started truly freelancing out on my own. This month that means I have next to nothing in the bank and no idea how I will be paying the rent. And I just realized today how much better that feels than the months I was okay financially.
Is this because I enjoy poverty? Nope. I hate it. But what I have now, along with the poverty, is my honor. And my dignity. The last flush of years has meant swallowing one indignity after another, it has meant pretending some new ridiculous bit of paperwork didn’t bother me, pretending to be grateful for the crumbs of work handed out by Arts Education. I’m so much happier wondering where my next dollar is coming from than I was agreeing to another unpaid meeting.
But of course that’s just today. Tomorrow, when I’ve run out of rice, I might be singing another song.
The Hamlet Project 