That Song by the Beatles, Or, Misconceptions

No, this post is not about lonely people or Jude. The Beatles' song came up on the iPod and made me think of what I've been chewing on this week--the preconceptions of how the person who chooses to be unemployed spends two things: time and money. So I'll steal from other music and explain.

Tiiiiime, Is On My Side, Yes It Is Now

Here is what I do not do with my time:

• Watch television. I probably rack up about two hours a week, or six hours a week if I happen to watch a Giants game.
• Eat bonbons. They have too much sugar. I prefer a plain 1x1 inch square of dark chocolate, and usually just one of those. Another reason to avoid television...a lot of food does look good in the ads.
• Read all day. I read about two hours a day during the week, sometimes all day on weekends. I'd be reading all day on weekends if I were working a traditional job, so that's not a big change. The big change is the two hours a day. I'm not too tired during the day to do that now.
• Sleep in. I'll sleep when I'm dead. Most of the time I'm up at 6:30 and writing and job hunting until 8:30 or 9, at which point I have breakfast.

Here's what I do with it:

• Every morning the first thing I do when I wake up is write three pages, longhand, about anything. Better than a cup of coffee and clears my head.
• I spend the first two hours of the day job-hunting, networking, reading tips and tricks on landing the job of my choice.
• After breakfast I hike the hill from the apartment to the Moraga and back. Gets my blood going after the sedentary task of the three pages. I do this hike again several times during the day instead of drinking Monster or Starbucks.
• The rest of the workday hours are spent writing. I clear about four pages longhand of a short story rough draft, and any blogging that I get to.
• Housework: Dishes, trash, laundry, etc.

And my evenings? These are usually taken with my writing groups, but I may do writing or reading in the evenings if I don't have a group or if I took the afternoon off to see a Giants game. I'm trying to work more author and music events in my schedule, but after a day of writing I usually just want to read, so that's taking slow progression.

Speaking of social events, that brings me to the second focus of the unemployed/self-employed/freelancing...

Money Money Money Money...MON-EY!

Here's what I don't do with my money:

• Pay full price for much anymore. When I worked in Oakland I often missed happy hour over here in the City due to getting home after it ended. I also drank more when I was traditionally employed. Now I pay half-price for drinks that I only drink at about 10% the rate that I used to. When it comes to entertainment, I find deals on-line or don't by the front row tickets (Giants promotions on Facebook, or the Treme tickets at the symphony that cost me $60 less than the Springsteen concert that I went to four years ago--and the Treme show was a better show. Not sorry I went to Springsteen, just saying that the jazz concert was top notch and was an f-in' BARGAIN.)
• Eat entrees. I usually make due with appetizers or sandwiches.
• Eat out as much as I used to. I still eat out, but about 80% less than I used to.
• Reward myself. I used to spend money on stuff to reward myself (handbags, journals, fountain pens, books). I have a whole can of pens I'm happily working through, I have a whole basket of journals I'm working through (and pretty quickly on both, since 90% of my written work is longhand), and I love how I spend my time and what my work is now. My reward is my time.

Here's what I do with my money now:

• See my City.
• Donate the books I have read to the library instead of selling them to bookstores. (My community contribution is in books, not money. If a homeless guy every asks me for a book I'll hand over. You can get drunk on a book better than any tequila or wine I've ever sampled, and you can escape.)
• Get around. I'm saving about $190 in transit fees not going to Oakland. I'm also saving about $140 a month additionally in City Car Share fees from not going to physical therapy or renting the car to drive to manager meetings or branch events. With that gap I can visit towns like Palo Alto and San Jose for art events, or to catch up with old friends via Caltrain, which is my favorite mass transit. (No other mass transit agency in the Bay Area lets you eat and drink on the transit, none other will sell you alcohol before you get on in San Francisco--little wine bottles be cute, yo--and none other has restrooms on the train. And the homeless really can't get on.)
• Buy groceries and cook more.
• On what I need to fulfill me. That can come in some strange packages (and more on that in future posts).

The Healer once said to me that I didn't owe anyone an explanation of my time or my finances. I know this, but I offer it freely anyway. I realize that there are those who see my situation and have one of two reactions:

1. "Yeah, sure you're doing that, whatever."
2. "Must be nice."

To the first group, I could take pictures of my activities and show you, display receipts, etc., but I do think there's a line where I have better things to do. To the second group I say, you're right. It is nice. After 50-hour workdays during inventories and dreaming about how I'm going to cover for three people out at Christmas and four years of digestive issues and broken bones and lifting things my ObGyn would rip me a new one for lifting, it's very, very nice to be where I am. To those of you in the second group I think fondly of those nights when you were with your families while I cleaned up an accounting snafu, while you were on vacation or watching a ball game while I put away a trailer in the dark, when you were watching "American Idol" the next day and chatting it up while I missed it cleaning up after production shortfalls. Thanksgivings, birthdays, holidays missed...dentist and doctor appointments rescheduled...yes, this is nice. I didn't win the freakin' lottery. I'm making a career change and I'm discovering work/life balance, which, compared to the life that I used to have, is going to make me look like a selfish slacker. As long as I possibly can. The life of a traditionally-employed martyr was killing me.

With my genetics I have a 50% chance of living to retirement. I've been told this. I don't have to tell you what retirement age is--you've probably got in your crosshairs too. I look at it this way--if I get to work at a profession that I love deeply, I'll beat the odds. I'll make it to retirement, but I won't want to retire. You'll find me walking the path of Larry King or Oprah, "retiring" to work on something else that I'm passionate about that I've always wanted to master.

Regardless, I won't be rocking in a chair. Or spending money on an RV. Or eating bonbons.

That's at two months out in this ocean.

Onward, dear reader.

P.S.--This is where the title of today's post of Life For Rent comes from. And no, I'm not going to start wearing suspenders or buying up cocker spaniel pups, although the idea of my own book club sounds intriguing.