Take Some Free(lance) Advice

(I have a friend from college. We don’t hang out often but occasionally we do meet to catch up. It’s been a long time since our last reunion, and I just decided to be a full time freelancer, which she had already done long before me, so I invited her over. My apartment is in a building down an alley and unless you frequently drop by you won’t know exactly where it is. Usually I tell my guests to wait in front of a school on the main street and call me. We settle the time at 10 am, and I set the alarm at 9:30 since I have to stay up late due to my freelance schedule. At 8:30 am she texts me saying she is on the way, but I don’t hear the phone ring. 9 am she calls me to say she is at the school. I rush through the cleaning and dressing progress and run to her.)

Friend: “You made me wait!”

Me: “Sorry, but you said you’d be here at 10 am.”

Friend: “But you should have been up anyway. It’s 9 am!”

(She didn’t let it go even when we arrived at my home.)

Friend: “Even though I’m a freelancer, I still wake up at 8. You have to have self discipline.”

Me: “Actually, I’m also a freelancer now, too, but my clients are from different time zones so I have to stay up late to chat with them. I can’t wake up early.”

Friend: “Why would you stay up late? Just use emails. I do that.”

Me: “They will send email as a confirmation on our agreement, but we chat to discuss the project and I prefer to work at night anyway. I’m a night owl.”

Friend: *heh*

Me: *went to get some drink for us*

Friend: “So you won’t go apply for jobs again?”

Me: “Nah, though you were right when you said working at home can be boring and lonely, because after work there’s nothing else to do.”

Friend: “That’s because you never take responsibilities around the house. I’m different; I have to cook and do housework and when I notice the time it’s lunch already…”

Me: “I’m repeating what you said to me when you started doing this. If anything, I’m not the one who’s scared of boredom loneliness, but you!”

Friend: “Yeah…”

(Then she notices a glass jar with yellow-ish liquid inside.)

Friend: “What is it?”

Me: “PVA glue.”

Friend: “Why is it yellow?”

Me: “I stored it in an iron jar before and it discolored, so I switched it to a glass jar.”

Friend: “Why didn’t you throw it away?”

Me: “It’s still usable.”

Friend: ” It’s useless now!”

Me: “But—”

Friend: *interrupted me as she noticed the backpack I put under my desk* “Why don’t you put that bag somewhere else?”

Me: “Where?” *I asked and glance around the small apartment where it was hard enough to just move around*

Friend: “Hang over the head of your bed?”

Me: “To have it fall on me when I’m sleeping? No, thanks!”

Friend: “Hang it on that wardrobe?” *pointed to the aluminum wardrobe next to my desk*

Me: “It’s cheap aluminum painted to look like wood. It’s flimsy. Beside, that would mean it won’t fall on me why I’m sleeping but while I’m sitting at the computer.”

Friend: “You just don’t know how to organize things!”

(That was when I decided to turn our occasional meetings to never again.)