On the Virtues of Totally Selling Out

Here’s the fun fact of the day: I am, in fact, still alive.

When I started this blog, my goal was to accurately and honestly chronicle my efforts to build an independent editing business. I discussed working from home and how good it felt to stick it to the man and quit my old job. I veered off into dogs and atheism, because…well, because I can.

And then I disappeared for the rest of the year. What happened to me?

Well, I totally sold out.

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Hello, Baby. Welcome to Earth.

This isn’t something that I go around shouting from the rooftops or anything, but—I’m an atheist. I’m a decent person (at least, I like to think so), and I don’t have horns growing out of my forehead. I don’t worship Satan (indeed, as an atheist, I don’t even think that Satan exists, let alone that he’ll do me favors if I wear all black and act like a prick). I don’t eat babies, and I haven’t hung out with a coven of witches since that one time in college.

Those chicks were crazy

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New Clothes

I’m awake at one in the morning, so naturally I’m messing around with my blog. I’m too distracted for any meaningful writing or, as the kids call it, “Blogging,” but I’m awake enough to mess around with the setting and widgets and whatnot. And as such: I’ve got a new theme. It’s called Piano Black, so I’m going to have to start writing some detective noir stories so I don’t stick out like a sore thumb.

In honor of Piano Black, the Man In Black playing a Piano: “Hurt” by Johnny Cash (via Trent Reznor).


Thursday’s (EPIC) Inu Post pts. 3 and 4

I’ve discussed about how Thursdays always seem to suck for me. Well, last Thursday sucked so bad that I didn’t even get to put up another Thursday Inu Post (as I’ve come to think of them). It was actually kind of fascinating to see the small spike in traffic from people who were expecting a new post. I imagine that both of my loyal readers were completely devastated.

Pictured: Distraught Reader

Nonetheless! This week, I’m making up for it. Cuteness continues below the fold.

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An Auspicious Day

It’s an interesting afternoon here at casa de…my house. It’s my first tax day as a freelance editor.

One of the things that surprises many people about being self-employed is that tax day comes four times a year. There are a few reasons for this. The first is that, as a self-employed person, your tax burden is higher than your basic employee. Since there’s no employer withholding your taxes for you, you have to do it yourself.  And since there’s no employer paying half of your social security burden for you, you have to pay that yourself as well. In all, you can expect about 30 percent of any paychecks you get from companies to go directly to the government…via your savings account.

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Canine Assistance Is Requested pt. II

It’s Thursday again. Bollocks!

Last week I mentioned that my wife and I love Shiba Inu. Indeed, we love these furry little nuisances so much that we frequently volunteer with the Shiba Inu Rescue of Texas, a nonprofit organization that pulls lost Shiba Inu out of animal shelters and finds them new, loving homes. This is a sometimes painful process, as dogs who have been given over to Animal Services are frequently plagued with health or behavioral problems.

In particular because Shibas can be difficult to train due to their intelligence and aforementioned “How About Go Fuck Yourself?” attitude, a lot of Shibas end up at the pound waiting to be put down. Apparently the half-life between “THIS PUPPY IS SO CUTE!” and “WHY WON’T THIS DOG LISTEN?!?” is between three and six months.

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Canine Assistance Is Requested

Thursdays. I never could get the hang of Thursdays.

One of the biggest adjustments I’ve made in my move to freelance work is my work hours. Because of the convenience (nay, I say, the glory!) of the internet and working with publishers remotely, in very real sense I have absolutely no work schedule. No one is there to care if I can’t sleep so I work until 3 in the morning. Similarly, no one cares if I just don’t want to get out of bed and don’t get dressed until noon. There are no “sick days” to track or “vacation hours” to tabulate. If I don’t work, I don’t get paid, and there’s no one to care about that except for me.

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