10.21.02
Forgive me, Bear Pants.
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Marisa and I have been freelancing the last couple days. As of tomorrow, we won't be anymore. Boo. You know, there's a weird arc you go through every time you're thrown like a pawn between Unemployment and Freelancing.

Pretend you get an Actual Freelance Job. That morning, it's like it's your first day of work all over again. Your alarm blares, and you're feeling like a newborn in a bright white delivery room, your eyes a wee bit burny. When you finally focus, you notice your stomach. It's off, somehow... nervous. Fluttery. But at the same time, you're feeling good — alert, even! — as you step into the shower. After all, you've just mentally filled out your invoice for the day. Two words: Day. Rate. Freelance money is sick, you think. Yes, yes it is. And in fact, you will have money this month for macaroni 'n' cheese.

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