Week 29 - Close Shave

 

Update –Things got a little rough for a while, but I’m back on track for the moment. I’ve started a new story! Or a book. We’ll see how long it runs. If it peters out I have two others waiting in the wings, plus the rewrite of the detective book. I just wrapped up another assignment and nothing’s on the docket for the moment so, barring unforeseen circumstances, I should be able to get some work in. Just gotta keep that motivation going.

Here’s something you don’t get with too many professions: Monday I had to take my car in for inspection. I usually schedule it for the afternoons, then go up after their lunch break and wait around for them to finish (no rides available, and the garage is too far to walk to). This time around I took a notebook and my purse’s pen collection and got some writing in. Fortunately nobody asked to see it. Picture this if you will: in a world of electronic devices I sat and wrote, in longhand, a gay romance between two supernatural beings, in a garage owned and operated by Mennonites. That sounds like the plot of a book in itself. Or a romcom. Or a Hallmark movie. Beats the hell out of office work, even though the pay sucks. Come to think of it, so does the pay for office work. But I can work wherever now, with no annoying coworkers. There are times when I absolutely love being a writer.

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And other times when I don’t. This also happened last week. It actually started a week or two before. I get paid for my assignments on a monthly basis. Payout varies, depending on how many assignments I get and how long (word count) they are. I mentioned previously that in June I had a number of overlapping assignments, and some of them were long ones. I had myself a nice, hefty paycheck coming, which I could use to start paying down my emergency credit card. Or cover the cost of that car inspection. Or get my furnace repaired, because it turns out the thermostat wasn’t the problem after all. I’m putting that off until September. Payments have been coming in around the same time I get my Social Security, so most bills get put off until both come in and I can make a budget. On a good month I get spare cash and give the cards a break. That’s what the card was originally for, to handle medical and unexpected bills while SS and the paying job took care of the usual stuff. Life hasn’t worked out so simply. Thanks a bunch, inflation.

Anyway, I checked my bank balance on “payday.” Social Security showed up right on time. The amount for June’s work didn’t. I wasn’t that worried at the time. They’d taken their time updating my spread sheet, so I figured transfers would be running late. The outfit’s headquartered in Texas, which got hit by Hurricane Beryl right around that time. I heard reports of thousands of people left without power. I figured I could hold off for a bit.

A few days later they updated the spreadsheet. Okay, I’d get my money now. Checked the bank balance. No increase. I returned an assignment and mentioned in passing I hadn’t been paid yet. The company didn’t respond. More days passed. Another assignment came in. I made another mention of my missing money. Again, there was no response.

Here’s the downside to having a writer’s mind: my paranoid imagination concocted a whole slew of possibilities, all running along the lines of I'm screwed. They’d gone out of business. The company declared bankruptcy. The owner had an emergency and stiffed me to pay bills. The owner stiffed me, period. I wouldn’t be getting any money from them ever again. I was going to get hit with massive interest payments because I wouldn’t be able to pay down the credit card. I’d have to find another job. At my age, in my physical condition. I worked myself up into one pretty tizzy, got panicky and depressed and ate a lot food that’s bad for me. I wasn’t even this upset over the cancer scare. But then, I’ve had health issues involving surgery before and everything turned out fine. I’ve also abruptly lost jobs before, with the job market, and my paycheck, shrinking with every year I aged. This time there wouldn’t be any unemployment (part-time work as an independent contractor) or borrowing from family (they’re all dead or scattered). Not to mention I still had the new assignment, with no guarantee I’d even get paid for that, so should I work on it or not? Yeah, that was definitely a dark several days.

I selfishly indulged in despondency for a weekend, then did what I should have done at the outset: contacted the owner directly and asked them where my money was. By now we’d gone a week beyond the end of the pay period. It was unquestionably late, so if my email got a little testy in spots (though I did my best to keep it polite and professional) I figured I was justified. And this time I did get a response. The owner told me she’d failed to verify whether the transfer went through. She sent it again, with a screenshot to prove she’d done so. Within 24 hours I had my money and was able to pay off all my monthly expenses without having to resort to the credit card. Damn, it felt great to do that.

The minute I learned I still had a job and would be receiving my pay, my depression disappeared. I actually felt it dissolving. It was like I’d been reborn into a bright new world. I was rejuvenated. I finished the assignment and went back to writing my own stuff. Life was good again. Having paid bills and cash on hand, if only for a month, will do that to you.

I didn’t have to go through this. All the negativity could have been avoided if I’d done what I’d sworn to do back at New Year’s—write a book a month and start submitting to publishers, or learn how to self-pub and get ’em out there anyway. With backup income streams I wouldn’t have panicked like that. You can’t write when you’re depressed. You can’t do much of anything when you’re depressed. You do even less when you get complacent. Everything’s going fine, so why wear yourself out with extra work? Because life happens, that’s why. Companies go out of business. People get fired. Things break down, including your body. You need to work like hell during the good times because the good times can go bad in an instant. I didn’t, and got hit in the face with the consequences of my own inaction.

This isn’t the first time I’ve been in this spot. Maybe, just maybe, I’ve finally learned my lesson and will get off my ass and start prepping so I’ll be financially secure when the next disaster hits. If the books don’t sell, that’s okay; I’ve got loads of old comic books and some other memorabilia from my collecting and con-going days. They’re not in mint condition, but some of them ought to be worth at least a month’s rent and grocery money. I can always drop cable, too. It’s not like anything’s on.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to work. Get those stories written, polished and out the door. And keep a close eye on my bank account. See y’all next week.