Part of this unemployed/freelance lifestyle that makes me absolutely loathe to give it up (for those keeping score at home -- I'm now without a job, covering screenplays for milk money, and looking for Bigger and Better Things that could, fingers crossed, be done in my pajamas) is the fact that I can go outside. In the sun. During the daytime. Almost whenever I want.
It's become a craving. An addiction. I find reasons to walk miles and miles, lazy footsteps carrying me forward, audiobooks playing on headphones, just loud enough to be heard over traffic. I sit outside on my balcony, which now has chairs, a rug, candles, a lamp and a table on it (before, it had some dying houseplants and a bucket full of dirt), scamming free wireless from my neighbor and writing coverage. This afternoon, I walked to a park with a second draft of a screenplay that needs to become a third draft, and I nearly fell asleep in the heat of the sun, lazy and content. I'm terrified of skin cancer and sunburn, but those concerns seem minimal these days. There is sun outside. So outside, I must go.
I do not often bring my laptop with me, when I go on these adventures. Which is why, dear reader, I've been lax here.
But hey, Wi-Fi and lingonberry-scented candles and this balcony could be my new office.