Last night I was struggling to think of a topic to write about. I had this vague idea of talking about measuring the value of what you create outside of just views and money, but I didn't have enough of a concept down to make it happen. I'm only writing it down here now so that in a week when I'm in the same situation I can look back at this and see if the idea grew at all. Hopefully it did, Future Rob.
So instead, I'm opting for a shorter post today in which I just take a moment to thank Kat.
You see, when I first decided to set out on this one year experiment in quitting my job and focusing on the making the channel a full-time gig, I started getting a lot of warnings.
I guess you could call them warnings? I use "warnings" because it wasn't advice to follow, so much as it was people telling me what I was going to experience when I finally started it. It was all based on either what they had experienced firsthand when they did something similar, or just generally accepted ideas about being self-employed from home that they had heard from someone who heard it from someone and so on. I imagine it was only a fraction of what expecting parents go through the first time they're expecting, when every parent they know decide it's time to download all of their years of sage experience onto them.
I also use the word warnings because while there were some who were highlighting how great it would be, and plenty of people wishing me luck, most of it came in the form of actual warnings of what perils lay ahead. The common theme was that apparently I was about to lose my mind and all sense of being a well groomed adult. It often came in the form of jokes, but the one constant was that working from home every day and being self-employed was a fast way to go crazy, lose all of your social skills, and forget how to take care of myself.
I took it all with a laugh, but when I finally quit and started off on this journey, I watched and waited to see when it would happen. After years of looking forward to going home and relaxing, would I really find myself going stir-crazy in this apartment? Would I find myself forgetting what it was like to be social on a day-to-day basis? Am I really going to end up as that cliche they warned me about where I wasn't showering or changing my clothes for days on end? I waited for it, and I waited, and I waited some more.
It never happened.
Five months in and I still bathe regularly. I still love this apartment and getting to relax here and work here, and I still know how to carry a conversation with people.
Was I just lucky? Did I dodge a bullet that hits everyone else? Well, probably not. I know a big part of it is that the smelly crazy cave-person image painted for me was hyperbole. But as they say, there's a bit of truth in every joke. However I think there's a reason that I haven't even kind of fallen into those traps, and it's Kat.
I'm very lucky to live with someone I not only love dearly, but is the best roommate I've ever had. I'm convinced a big part of the reason that I'm still a normal functioning adult who hasn't lost my mind is because of her. I get to spend time with her here at home. She drives me to leave the house and do things on my kinda/sorta-days off. And we will routinely call each other out when we smell, so I have some added incentive there as well.
So thank you, Kat. I genuinely don't know if I'd be enjoying this whole dream career move without her.