(Heh, I’m not really writing about the university – just about what’s going on in my life now – but I couldn’t resist that as a subject line… ;) )

It’s been about seven months since I left the uni now and since 1st July, I’ve officially been self-employed. While I’m not exactly rolling around in banknotes, things are going well and I’ve decided to keep plugging at various projects until at least next May then I’ll review my situation again (I’ve been reviewing things every couple of months up until now).

Financial issues aside, I’m the happiest I’ve been in my entire adult life (and probably for a long time before since a lot of my teenage years weren’t exactly jolly). I haven’t been physically ill at all or depressed in the slightest since I left work. Particularly in my last job at the uni when I had to face the (germ-spreading) public on a daily basis, I was always getting colds and tummy bugs – but nothing since then. And at least twice a week, I remember that I don’t have to go to Work (as in somewhere else and for someone else) the next day, and the sense of relief is overwhelming. Really, like a whole body sigh of relief, even after seven months. I’m not frightened of hard work and I do like being challenged mentally on a daily basis but .. well, I don’t think I’ve consistently had either of those things in any of my previous jobs and over time, it ground me down.

These days, six days a week, I wake up when I want to (usually circa 11) then do about three hours focused work, have a lunch break, then do what I want for the rest of the day. Some days this is seeing a friend, or reading, or knitting, or killing the pixelated enemy but most days, it’s work of some description: writing content for websites, writing stuff for myself, designing new websites or new logos etc for existing ones, proofreading brochures or essays, keeping an eye on all the websites (damn spammers), designing merchandise for ELER etc, coming up with new ideas for new things to try (lots of plans, watch this space)… and dull stuff but essential stuff like accounts and posting out tshirts. I’m not saying all of it excites me (particularly the last two) or challenges me but overall, it’s good. Very good. And I spend most days with at least two cats attached to my sides and that’s good for me (and them) too.

I know I’ve been very lucky regarding a couple of things that have happened during this time and I’m not cocky enough to assume that nothing will go wrong in the next five months or after that (I do have the fear quite a lot – hence regular reviews) – but up to this point, I have no regrets about giving this self-employment lark a go.

Despite being relatively colourful in the rest of my life, every day, for work, I wear black. Black trousers, black top or shirt, black jumper or cardigan if the weather demands it, black trainers and a black jacket. I usually wear black socks and underwear too. Occasionally I’ll be daring and go for a white shirt under a black jumper but by and large, I have an all black uniform for work. It’s not an official uniform of course, more just one I impose on myself because it’s easy and means I can get dressed in the dark without having to worry whether particular shades of colours work together or any of that nonsense.

This isn’t particularly newsworthy in itself – I’ve done it for a number of years now, it’s just “work clothes” and I don’t have any particular affection for them – but I’m mentioning it now because I’ve just seen the anti-me. Well, not the anti-me because she wasn’t wearing all white, so some really crazy alternate universe me who was wearing a (semi-fitted) suit, with matching coat, of bright pink. Stupendously bright pink. Eye-splitting bright pink. Ridiculously painfully bright pink. I didn’t want to get too close to her for the sake of my retinas and also in case it caused some kind of time/space warp thing but it did make me wonder: I wonder if she gets dressed in the dark too.