Every once in a while the writer-for-hire has no choice but to work the weekend. Sometimes I work on a weekend just because I feel like it. And yes, sometimes I really do just feel like it. (What can I say, I like to work.) But this weekend I just plain need to work. Not nearly enough hours in the regular days.
See, I took on this large rush-job project only recently, and instead of trying to negotiate more reasonable deadlines, I accepted the client's timeline terms. That's despite still needing to meet a different client's deadline first. (Which I did, thankyouverymuch.)
Funny thing is, I think I could have gotten a little scheduling leeway. I've worked with this client many times. And my editor actually said, in a legal-evidence-quality email, that we could talk about spacing out dates if I wanted to.
But — does this sound strange? — I really didn't want to. (I. Know!)
It's the freelancer's dilemma:
If I'd stretched out this work and actually taken that extra time (which, to try to be clear, wasn't really extra time at all), I'd be bumping in to, or possibly jeopardizing, deadlines for a project set to start a bit later. If I want this particular project I'm working on . . . and, obvs, I do 'cause I'm working on it . . . my own schedule demands that I finish the work in time to do the next thing.
And this is where I'll leave you, my bloggy friends. Saturday night break time is over. I need 200 more words before bedtime, and I'll be hanged if I'm not going to write them.