By Jacqueline Dooley
Last Tuesday, I spent 10 minutes angrily telling my husband about a project that really annoyed me. It was around 4 p.m. and I hadn’t had a break all day. I’d meant to run downstairs and quickly have something to eat, when I caught him in the kitchen and started explaining a problem I was having with a client.
Somehow the explaining turned into complaining and after five minutes I realized I was talking very loudly. At one point, I paused for breath and my husband said (very diplomatically), “It feels like you’re yelling at me.”
He was absolutely right, not that it stopped me. So why was I yelling at him about a work-related problem he had nothing to do with? Because there was no one else to yell at.
Work follows me around like a cloud when I’m at home. This is an obvious pitfall of being self-employed. The fact that I have no colleagues, supervisors or peers to vent to on a regular basis is part of that pitfall. I have several cyber colleagues I regularly e-mail and chat with, but typing out your frustrations in a chat window doesn’t feel nearly as cathartic as yelling, cursing and waving your arms around.
Admittedly, this sort of behavior is very nonproductive no matter where you do it. When I worked full time at an agency, a key pitfall was wasting too much time chatting (in person) with colleagues, or venting, or gossiping or complaining.
I really tried to avoid getting too caught up in all that negativity in the spirit of maintaining my sanity, but I have to admit it was good to be able to talk/complain/vent to people who understood exactly what was causing my angst. Now the opportunity to gripe at the water cooler is gone, I sure do miss it.
The good thing about unloading my stress on my husband (good for me, not for him) is that since he’s not as close to my work problems as I am, he can be a lot more objective. He was able to point out some of the reasons I was so frustrated — reasons which bring me to the next pitfall.
Unrealistic expectations
The reason I was venting was because I felt very overwhelmed due to a relentless series of deadlines that seemed to mysteriously crop up. My husband pointed out there was nothing mysterious about it. The deadlines all hit me at once because of unrealistic expectations, both mine and my client’s.
It’s my responsibility to set realistic expectations about what I can and cannot do, and it’s the client’s responsibility to accept that. Accepting I’m not a full-time employee and therefore can’t handle the workload of one can be difficult for me and my clients.
Which brings me to another huge pitfall of working as a remote freelancer — bandwidth. The longer I freelance for an agency, the more they begin to regard me as they would an internal employee. From the agency’s perspective that means I’m always available, and can get things done immediately when asked. But from my perspective that may not be possible, because I work for five agencies, all of which have deadlines and priorities.
So it comes back to me, and setting expectations, which can be a problem if I do it wrong. This is what led to that episode of venting on my unsuspecting husband, dragging both of us into that first huge pitfall of working from home. Even so, I felt much better afterwards.
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This article was published in the Poughkeepsie Journal on Saturday, January 27th, 2007.
By Jacqueline Dooley
It doesn’t matter whether I call myself a freelancer, consultant, subcontractor or remote employee, at the end of the day I bill myself as an expert. I’ve been in the online marketing industry for nine years — longer than most of the people who hire me to work for them.
This lends itself a lot of responsibility. In my experience, companies reach out to freelancers for one of two reasons: because they need someone who can come in at a very high skill level and work directly with a client for a short period of time or out of sheer desperation.
In first scenario, companies are truly looking for experts and, as a result, these types of projects tend to be the ones I enjoy most. The agency that brings me on board as an expert will likely have some experience working with a consultant. They will immediately recognize my value based on my level of experience and will often introduce me to the client from day one as a valuable resource for the project.
It’s when companies hire me out of sheer desperation because they are short handed and need somebody, anybody to help get the work done, that I run into trouble.
Agencies that rarely or never outsource to freelancers usually don’t know how to work with them. They see me as a vendor, not a member of their team. They usually don’t know how to best leverage my expertise and they keep my interaction with clients to a minimum. They don’t recognize my value and grudgingly include me in day-to-day correspondence. Even though I may be able to come in and get the job done with very little direction, they see me as just another body doing busy work.
Generation gap
The truth is that while sometimes I feel like the oldest person in online marketing (particularly when I visit agencies where half the staff are in their early twenties), I’m proud of the length of time I’ve been in the industry. And you know what? It does make me an expert.
I really believe agencies are doing themselves and me a disservice if they don’t leverage that to their advantage when they bring me on board to work on a project.
Perhaps I don’t sell myself like this because I’ve taken on the apologetic stance of the subcontractor grateful for work rather then presenting myself as an expert that can add very real value to any project.
Whether I call myself a freelancer to one client, a subcontractor to another or an expert consultant to yet a third, I’m still doing pretty much the same thing for all of them. So why should it matter what label I put after my name? The answer to that isn’t simple because it’s wrapped up in how I perceive myself and how I want to be perceived.
The projects that give me the opportunity to show off my expertise to the entire team — including the client — are the ones I find the most fulfilling. I’m beginning to realize the busy work just isn’t cutting it anymore, no matter how much they pay me.
Maybe I’m a marketing snob, but after nine years in this business I’m much more comfortable sitting at the table with the vice presidents and chief operating officers and talking about how to affect their company’s bottom line than sitting on the sidelines putting spreadsheets together. Perhaps it’s time to hire an assistant.
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This article was published in the Poughkeepsie Journal on Saturday, January 20th, 2007.
By Jacqueline Dooley
As a business owner and a mom, I’m constantly faced with an ever-present barrage of decisions. The start of the workweek brings with it a host of small decisions that, if made poorly, can snowball into large problems.
What I choose to do on Monday morning will inevitably affect how much spare time I’ll have to spend with my kids, whether or not I’ll have any downtime and my frame of mind during the coming week.
My very first decision on Monday morning involves my to-do list. Should I read my e-mail or polish off a deadline before I get too involved with non-billable work? Even though I know the productive choice would be to work on the deadline, I decide on the e-mail, which is undoubtedly a poor choice.
I can always finish the deadline after I work on e-mail for a couple of hours, right?
Wrong.
It’s 10:30 a.m. and I’ve told my husband he can take a shower at this time while I watch our daughter. So, it’s downstairs for a 20-minute break, which actually turns into a 50-minute break. By the time I get back to my desk, it’s nearly noon.
Now, not only have I not started on my deadline, but I also forgot that I had a report due by the end of the day. Everything gets pushed aside for this second deadline (a decision that takes me only a moment to make).
The report will take me three to four hours to complete, but I’ve planned to leave at 3:30 because I have to take both my girls to the pediatrician by 4 p.m. At 2:45 I’m only halfway done with my report.
Should I ask my husband to take the girls to the doctor without me, so that I can finish the report?
I ultimately decide against it, even though I know he’s more than capable of handling it. At 3:30 I send an e-mail to my client indicating I’ll have the report to them later in the evening and thus I’ve committed myself to working after the girls are in bed. Oh, and I still haven’t begun to work on my first deadline yet.
There are consequences
I’ve lost my free time for the evening because I chose to read my e-mail in the morning instead of working on my first deadline. That simple, self-indulgent decision will likely have repercussions for the entire week in the form of delayed deadlines, annoyed clients and stress that bleeds into my home life and affects everyone.
No matter how many decisions I make, or how good I think I get at it, there’s always the potential to make a really bad one. A couple of weeks ago I chose not to give my 2-year-old antibiotics for an ear infection because it was so difficult (an understatement) to get her to take the medicine. The pediatrician wasn’t sure she had an infection at all because she couldn’t see the ear drum, so I thought we could wait it out.
It was the wrong decision. Her ear drum ruptured a week later (she’ll be fine — she’s since taken antibiotics and ear drums typically heal on their own).
When it comes down to it, parenting decisions are way bigger than business decisions — at least in my experience. They help me put the so-called important decisions into perspective so I don’t become too obsessive. They also make me realize that even the smallest decisions can have a very big impact not just on myself, but on the people I care most about.
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This article was published in the Poughkeepsie Journal on Saturday, January 13th, 2007.
By Jacqueline Dooley
A few of my colleagues with full-time agency jobs have just completed their annual performance reviews and/or given reviews to their staff. Thinking about performance reviews gives me a pang because it brings up some old feelings from the ghosts of full-time jobs past.
For me, the annual (or semi-annual) performance review was a mixed blessing. It was nerve-wracking because it forced me to look at my shortcomings, but it was always so rewarding to get a glowing performance review, accompanied by a raise and the occasional promotion. Performance reviews, good or bad, always motivated me for the coming year.
The lack of consistent feedback on my work is something I haven’t really considered as a freelancer. In fact, I’ve always felt that one of the strongest benefits of working for yourself is that quality of your work speaks for itself. When a client awards me additional work and responsibilities, refers me to a colleague of theirs or expresses sincere gratitude for my help, it is ample substitute for a glowing performance review. Or is it?
Now that I don’t have the opportunity to haggle with any one boss about the merits of my work, and how deserving I am of a raise and some recognition, I kind of miss it. I’ve always liked (needed) to be graded. It kind of makes it all worth it. It’s validating to receive a positive performance review from a boss and peer in the same industry.
It’s shamelessly egotistical, I know, but without having any kind of ritualized feedback in my work schedule, I tend to obsess over my shortcomings and wonder about how my performance is perceived.
Another side effect of the missing performance review is the tendency to feel isolated and insecure. I wonder if I’m learning enough about the industry — am I keeping up with trends? Am I giving my clients the best service possible? How do I measure up compared to other people in my field?
Others can help
It has occurred to me that I do not need to wallow in self-doubt and isolation. I can actually reach out to my clients and ask for a performance review — of sorts. I know everyone is busy, but I think it’s important to touch base with clients and ensure I’m meeting all their expectations and that, in turn, they are meeting all of mine.
Requesting performance reviews from existing clients will provide me with the much-needed feedback I’m seeking and give me some concrete things to work on for the new year. It will also give my clients the opportunity to take a step back and evaluate my work. Am I adding value? Can they use me in other areas of business? Would they feel confident recommending me to a colleague or peer at another company?
The pitfalls of this line of thinking are fairly obvious. A client may decide they are not happy with my work or that I am not, in fact, adding value. Thus, the best possible outcome for a performance review is not praise and more work, but also to understand whether or not I continue to be a good fit for the client’s needs. If the answer is no, then the best possible service I can give to the client is to move on so I do not continue to waste their money and my time.
And isn’t that the bottom line?
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This article was published in the Poughkeepsie Journal on Saturday, January 7th, 2007
