I hate taking money out of the bank, and so usually try to subsist on cash-in-hand earnings. This gets to be a problem, especially when I am being paid very little by either the unreliable Chinese bank transfer or the 'Oh Christ, I hope I don't lose this on the way home' envelope full of readies. In the last six months, I have survived almost entirely on writing projects - which are reasonably intellectually satisfying, and pay moderately well, but they tend to be few and far between, and the money for them often doesn't come through until months later.
Since I now find myself mired in the apartment-hunting nightmare, and likely to have to part with 20 or 30k in cash to secure a new pad within the next week or so, the slenderness of my under-the-mattress stash was becoming a source of considerable anxiety.
So, I was doubly surprised and relieved the other day to discover that.....
a) I was actually going to get paid 50% in advance on my latest writing gig, developing the copy for a new corporate website. (I've actually pretty much finished the job, before signing the contract for it; dangerously cart-before-house, but this is a reliable employer - not Chinese, obviously.)
and....
b) The employer had misfiled or forgotten about my bank details, and so impetuously decided to pay me in cash instead. Woo-hoo!
I'm supposed to be picking up another big wodge for a couple of business articles tomorrow. So, I'll be just about sorted for persuading a potential new landlord of my solvency.
Fate, you are a tease, aren't you?
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