Flashes of Panic

I think freelance writing is an addiction. Every time I talk about quitting, I come crawling back.

I figured I was done for a while after NCAA Indoors, with very few events left on my schedule. I did a one-day job for a road race, and Boston, of course, but I started to wonder what I’d be able to do as a student. Will I be able to travel to as many events? I won’t be using my vacation days, but I will be more interested in covering my expenses on a tighter budget. How much time will I have? I might want to turn any free time into income, but I might not have any time to do the research and the writing, let alone pitching, though that turns out to be all too easy.

So, while I’m thinking about that, two small assignments with nice paychecks attached drop in my lap.

And then when this new event is announced today, which happens to share a city and date with another event I’ve covered before, I figure, hey, I’m still working, maybe I can pull in a little more.

Next thing I know, I’m sending email to my favorite outlet, asking if they’d like me to send reports. I am so pathetic. Someday, they’ll find me sleeping under my desk, huddled up to my laptop with a blanket of magazines and a pillow of statistics books, fifteen press passes dangling from my neck as I compulsively send pitches and invoices, maybe transcribe an interview here or there in a desperate attempt to quit.

Update, 5/7: I got the assignment. Reports for both events, plus a preview of the new one, so three articles in total. Time to request press credentials.

Now Playing: Kid On The Train from Spirit Touches Ground by Josh Clayton-Felt