She was already a day over her deadline, and she’d promised to send it off that night, but the words just wouldn’t come and she’d been struggling with the project ever since starting it nearly a month before. She’d done the math on a spreadsheet she used to track her daily progress, and at the rate she was working, she was only earning about five dollars an hour. Still, she often reminded herself that this was better than working a minimum wage job where she had to take crap from customers all day. Even though her office was nothing more glamorous than her kitchen table, Akala took pride in being self-employed. In truth, that term was a bit of a stretch. She’d had a small batch of business cards made up, and she’d cajoled a friend into building a basic website for her — she’d even set her Facebook job status to Self-Employed at Writer — but the money was barely coming in. Each new minimum payment on her credit cards was more than she was able to pay, and it was to the point where she was thinking about giving up her phone because it was too much money every month.
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