"Those who don't work don't eat"
Growing up in the waning days of the Soviet Union and the dawn of the new, chaotic Russian Federation, one saying that I heard bandied about a lot was “кто не работает тот не ест” - roughly “one who doesn’t work is the one who doesn’t eat.” And last week, it dawned on me just how close to literal that is when you’re a freelancer.
Last Tuesday, I had a runny nose, and my throat felt kind of sore. But when I woke up next morning… To be honest, I didn’t realize right away that I was feeling a bit sick. I just felt I didn’t get enough sleep. Nothing that coffee and just some walking around couldn’t cure. Besides, I didn’t have time to be sick - I was supposed to show some friends of my mom’s friend around town (because, if you haven’t seen me write about it before, I like showing people around Chicago and sharing parts that aren’t necessarily touristy). And then, I was going to finish one of the articles that was due on Thursday.
But it wasn’t long before it became pretty clear that I was, indeed, at least a little sick. I had trouble concentrating, and my head was pounding, and my noise was erupting with snot. So I wasn’t even that much of a tour guide. The guests took pity on me and relieved me early, and I wound up going home. And if I didn’t have to file an invoice and do an interview over the phone, I might have fallen sleep as soon as I got back.
I remembered thinking on my way back home - should I try to push through and finish at least one article, or maybe it would be better if I got some rest and, hopefully, feel better the next day.
I would up sleeping pretty much until the following morning, only waking up for a few brief intervals. And when I did wake up… I felt somewhat better, but it was clear that I still had ways to go.
Ideally, I might have rested a bit more. But two articles were due that very evening. And if I didn’t turn them in, I wouldn’t get paid. Simple as that. So I gritted my teeth, drank a lot of tea, ate some garlic and tried to get through it. Which I was able to do. Took longer than it might have if I was healthier, but I did it.
The next morning, on Friday, I was supposed to cover an event. I did wonder if I should call my editor, and say that I wasn’t feeling well. But if I didn’t do the assignment, then I won’t get paid. So I did my best to get through it. It helped that one of the guests at the event - an official in one of the many neighborhood organizations throughout Chicago’s Austin community - introduced me to several people who gave some really useful quotes.
Normally, after an event like that, I hole up at Argo Tea in the Loop’s Theater District and write an article about it ASAP. But on that day, whatever energy I was able to muster to cover the morning event was gone, so I headed straight home (a brief detour at Best Buy to purchase a printer cartridge notwithstanding). And I wasn’t really able to do much work after that.
On Saturday, I was still not at 100%. But finishing up two articles (including the one about the aforementioned event) didn’t feel like nearly as much of a chore. I event went grocery shopping later… which is when I started feeling worse, but I needed to buy food, so…
And at least I was able to cook dinner.
Through it all, I kept thinking about two things. About how my mom used to go into work sick, because she had three kids to feed. And how, back when I was a staff writer (even if a part-time staff writer) at the Niles Bugle for a little over a year, it was nice to be paid one set sum of money for a week’s work. How, if I couldn’t turn in the article because an event got cancelled, or something unexpected happened, I didn’t have to figure out some other way to fill the resulting financial gap.
At least when I got Twitter Flu at the start of 2014, I caught it on the on one of the few weeks where there wasn’t a whole lot of news. I tried to save as much money as I could ahead of time precisely because I knew it might be tough. So it worked out. Sort of.
It’s Monday, and I’m still not quite at 100% - but at least I feel closer to 90% or so. I was able to cover a meeting in the suburbs, and I wasn’t too tired to write this post.
But the whole thing just drove how that, as a freelance journalist, I don’t really have a luxury to get sick. Not unless it gets to the point where I really can’t work at all.
Because, if I don’t work, I don’t eat.