I’m here! I’m here! I’m finally here! Judging by the fact that you’re eating fistfuls of stuck together mini marshmallows that have been in the pantry since last winter and washing them down with tap water, I bet you’re pretty happy to see me.
Let’s celebrate, for this is the most glorious of days! Don’t be surprised when you finally exit your depression cave where you’ve been hitting REFRESH on your email every 30 seconds since 30 days net in between wondering “Is that the mailman? Wait, is that the mailman? Is the mail here?” to find bluebirds landing on your shoulder, deer eating straight from your cupped hands. The world is rejoicing. The world — only the good parts of the world, like the stuff you see in National Geographic Traveler — is yours. You are in a Disney movie both at the beginning before any parent figures die or at the end when everything ends in song. Where did all these butterflies come from?! Three cheers for freelance check day!
What was the delay this time? Was “a code entered incorrectly on the spaceship they use for accounts payable” or “didn’t we tell you our terms were 90 days not 30 whoops” or “some junior account manager, probably named Kylie, who’s never lived a life where her paycheck didn’t arrive every other Friday like clockwork yet holds your livelihood in her soft office hands just completely forgot to submit your invoice when you e-mailed it even though she chirped ‘confirmed!’ when you asked her to confirm that your invoice was all set probably because a ping pong game had just broken out in the lobby and it was Margarita Tuesday or some fucking shit like that”?
Well, those days are over now, my friend. I’m here! Clear your schedule as if it hasn’t already been cleared for the past month! We shall alight on Chipotle and eat like kings. We will order their finest sofritas bowls and hoard all of their guac! Of course, we know you’ll be charging us for the guac. Of course we do. Who wants guac on their order?! We’re buying. This guy has a freelance check! We will pay double.
After Chipotle we’ll stroll into the overpriced European candy shop that we never get to go in and we will not look at the prices whatsoever. We will spend at least $18 on a half pound of chocolate covered raisins. We do not even like raisins at all! But it’s freelance check day! If we want to spend our money in highly questionable ways that is our prerogative — nay, our duty — as a six-foot-tall adult child. We deserve this for attempting to make a living in one of the most insecure ways humanly possible. What were we thinking? Here, don’t think, just have some raisin candy.
We will then hit the newsstand that we usually just guiltily browse at. No browsing today fine people, we are L-O-A-D-E-D. We will buy extremely expensive Italian magazines we can’t even read just because the cover is quite fancy. And boy is it expensive. What’s this? We didn’t even know there were magazines dedicated to nothing but cigars or log cabins or naked people! Or naked people doing things with cigars while inside log cabins. Who are we kidding, we knew all about this particular magazine. We will take 15.
Let’s text all of your friends and make plans for every single night and weekend for the next two weeks. Do not add up all of the money you just committed to spend, it’s irrelevant. It shouldn’t matter that me, the freelance check, isn’t really all that “substantial.” In fact, on a scale of zero to substantial, I would characterize myself as “necessary.”
Look, we’re getting into the weeds. Let’s get out of these weeds! Yuck weeds, we hate you. Speaking of weeds, our house sure could use some work. Let’s fix that one light that’s crooked and upside down that actually worked perfectly for trick-or-treaters but is now just everyday no-occasion spooky. Let’s clap our hands twice and summon all the handymen and tradespeople in the vicinity. We’ve got a crib that needs tending, yo. As previously mentioned, we will definitely not add up what this raft of projects will cost and we will not work on a budget. What are we, your dad?
While all those people who are highly trained, make more money than you on a regular basis, and actually have a waitlist of people clamoring for their services tend to our hovel, let’s go shopping! Let’s start with impractical shoes for events we can see in our mind’s eye but will never be attending and then work our way out — like gossamer spokes on a wheel built of dreams — to artisanal denim, European electronics, and camping gear. We don’t even like camping. Camping sucks! But there are no bad ideas on freelance check day.
Should we book a trip to Iceland? Feels like Iceland is the missing piece here.
I knew it.
I’m already gone, aren’t I?