Earlier this year, I took a very interesting college course about internet writing markets. I found legitimate ways to employ my passion for writing with real ways to make money working from home. I was elated! I found a very popular site that connects writers with clients and I found a job within a few hours. I started my mornings off with writing orders in the marketing field and writing SEO (search engine optimization) content articles for this client overseas. Money started coming in, but slowly, my world started changing around me and I soon became very unhappy.
Before accepting the job, I spoke to my family and explained that, if I were to begin a writing job at home, I would need help and cooperation on many levels. I wouldn’t be available as much for cleaning and other household tasks, so the family would have to pull together and help out. Also, I would need some quiet time, regardless of us being in the home together. Neither of these things happened and I soon descended into quite a bit of misery. I like a very neat, clean and uncluttered home (don’t we all lol) and it takes work to keep it that way. Every day. I spend a lot of time organizing and decluttering because it’s unhealthy and overwhelming to be surrounded by crap you don’t need. So, as I saw things piling up around me, I felt like I was literally drowning and my stress went WAY up, my writing was suffering, but I kept seeing dollar signs and plugging away.
On top of everything else, my client was overseas and in a country that doesn’t have the best reputation for being kind to women and it showed. He wasn’t being abusive because I wouldn’t have continued, but he was short with me and chose to call his idea of preferences, errors. So if he liked the words “get along with” rather than cooperate, he would say I made an error. So, I was unhappy writing and unhappy with my life and I started wondering if I could go back to not having that money I’d gotten used to earning.
I began to look around me and see all the unhappiness. My kids couldn’t speak to me because I was “always writing”. If I had things to do on a certain day, my writing was pushed later into the day and it began to really cause issues. I’m not the only one to blame. I wasn’t exactly getting bucketloads of help either, so I was angry all the time. Finally, one day, I just realized that it wasn’t worth it anymore. I hadn’t been writing here on my blog, which is really important to me and although the money was nice, it wasn’t worth sacrificing my happiness. So, I just STOPPED. Just like that. All of a sudden, I was available again. I took a look around at the house and gave a big “Oh HELL no” at the mess and began tackling it with gusto. In a few days time, the house started looking like a home again instead of the aftermath of a clutter bomb. I did a lot of the work, but I did start to get some help. When those around me started to see how my mood lifted along with the improvement of the home, they finally “got it”.
There are a lot of people who will disagree and say that life isn’t about cleaning and having a perfect home. Oh goodness, this home is far from perfect. All I ask is that I have a clean, sanitary and basically organized home. Donate what we don’t need or want anymore and keep things nice. Having a clean kitchen means you can walk in and make dinner without spending twenty minutes looking for things and basically not even wanting to bother. Having a clean dining room table means everyone can sit down and share a meal. So it’s not about the home itself being clean, it’s the things that you can do when it IS clean. You can make moments with your family, spend time together in peace and work together towards a common goal. My daughter has a much nicer area to do her homework and a place for me to sit down and help her.
I am no longer tied down by the work orders that came in and the constant demands for edits and complaints. Will I go back to writing for profit? I’m sure I will, but when I do, it will be under my terms, my time constraints and it will not be something that I feel forced into doing.