Cause I'm Already Gone, If You Bet On Me You've Won

Ten years ago, I quit my office job and started freelancing

I was 23, and had no idea what the hell I was doing with my life. I knew I didn't want to stay in an office forever; I always truly believed I'd write novels for a living. Never questioned it. Otherwise, something in broadcast media. So at that point, I figured if I didn't make the change from cubicle to home office right then, I'd never do it. And I'd regret it.

I was probably right.

Done with those TPS reports.

That said, I do wonder where I'd be if I didn't make the switch. Because, of course, it's never easy. Back then, I wrote anything and everything I could get paid for. I mean everything, even if it was awful and soul-sucking. That seems to be a rite of passage for freelancers, after all. But it was never enough. I took on side jobs at different times, and then when I moved to Toronto, freelance writing just wasn't gonna hack it on its own. There was an infinite number of writers, and only so many jobs to go around.

Though writing stayed a side gig, it wasn't until 2011 that I started The MediaHaus, working for myself full-time and living what is essentially still a version of the freelance life. Less writing, more online marketing - but it's all related.

2007. Ten years. It seems crazy to me now. How did all that time pass? Oddly enough, this blog that you're reading (which I rarely post to anymore, though I have every intention to) is also now officially ten years old. A decade of ramblings. A decade of freelancing. A decade of doing things a bit differently.

I was at my classiest in 2007.

I don't think I'd recognize 23 year old Kris now. She was a whole different animal, and a lot has happened in the ten years since she was around. The funny thing is, I still have no answers for her big life questions. Plans and circumstances change. In a lot of cases, I don't think there are right or wrong decisions, necessarily - just very different paths with their own outcomes. Who knows which other ones I may have taken, if I had the guts.

It doesn't matter. I had the guts for this one

But I admit... I do still think in terms of the career I want "when I grow up". Because 33 (verging on 34, since my birthday is next week) is somehow waaaay too grown up, yet not enough to completely give up on old goals. I still think I'll write a few books "when I grow up". Still think I'll be more involved in media and music "when I grow up".

They say it's never too late. For anything. And ten years of attempting to do things on my own terms has, at the very least, taught me that you need to take a few risks, even if they won't pan out. Otherwise, can you live with the "what ifs"? Maybe it's time to take some new risks. 34 seems like a good age for it.

So there. It's decided.

I'm going to clown college.