People Need To Update Their Thinking On What Constitutes A “Real Job”

It’s come to my attention lately thanks to lots of ignorant trolls online that not all people understand the nature of contract work and the pure beauty of it.

“They just sit at home all day, wahhhhhh. They should get a real job!” Cue the eye rolling. I’m here to provide a much-needed PSA on contract employees and how incredibly real (and awesome) our jobs are.

I used to have a “real job.” I got up at horrific early morning hours, dressed up for no apparent reason, sat in traffic as my soul slowly died, and hated my life by the time I even got to the office. I sat there watching the clock all day, listening to crappy top 40 music (basically the same 10 songs about sex or money every hour), pretending to care about my coworker’s fucking lawn care problem, and thinking I’d do anything in the world to escape from this hell.

Earlier this year, I decided I couldn’t fake it anymore and happened upon my first major contract job. It was like a lightbulb illuminating over my head. I could set my own hours, go straight to my desk in my pajamas, and take as much time off as I need for personal appointments or getaways with my husband. Oh, and I don’t have to wonder all day if my dogs are destroying my apartment because I can keep an eye on them. Don’t they look so sweet and innocent? Yeah, don’t be fooled.

Currently I’m up to three contract gigs and I never have a shortage of work. I did the math and I’m saving at least $4000/year on gas and food alone by working from home. That’s not even counting the fancy clothes, shoes, and makeup I don’t have to buy anymore. When I add it all up, I’m actually making more money than I was at my “real job.”

Next time you meet someone who stays home all day, don’t automatically assume they don’t work. They very well may be working just as hard as you, except they don’t have to ask permission to go to the bathroom, sit through boring meetings that could have been emails, put on a damn suit, or listen to eight different bosses bitch about TPS reports.

So no thanks, I don’t care to get another “real job” and go back into that cage. I’ll be here at my quiet desk at home listening to music that doesn’t suck, wearing comfortable clothes, makeup-free and happy.