
You don't even have a real job!
I've often had that sentiment rattling round about me.
"Are you still doing children's books?", the neighbors always seem to ask, as if somehow I'd gone into selling insurance or designing submarines. "We hardly ever see the FedEx truck anymore", they say.
"Oh, I send all my sketches in online now", I try to explain.
And then there are looks from the checkers at the supermarket at 10 am when all I have is a chocolate bar, a box of tea and a bottle of golden sherry in the basket. "I was really just out for a walk. The chocolate bar & tea aren't for me"... I think out loud mentally. But still there's that look.
And of course there's the spouse who's certain I just spend all day playing around on the computer.
You don't even have a real job!
That's the feeling I think the freelancer is often up against. We know, of course this is far from true.

I would wager, in fact, that just drawing for hours on end might well be as challenging as digging ditches... or rowing across a channel in a large boat in heavy seas. At least it can sometimes feel about like that. And the measure of one's workday progress is plain to see in sheets of paper filled with lines and color or pixels.
So it's nice when the phone rings and my spouse picks it up and it's some big-wig art director or editor from New York City. That always makes a good impression to remind everyone that in fact, yes... I really actually DO have a real job!