I’ve been a self-employed independent creator for 10 years. I don’t recommend it.

I recently passed my 10th year as a self-employed independent creator. I don’t recommend it.

It all started when my boss called me into a conference room. As I followed her down the hall, I noticed she was carrying a manila envelope. I could sense what was coming.

It was a short meeting. She told me I was terminated, and I felt relieved. I got up and thanked her. “July 17, 2007 will be a special day in my life,” I told her, smiling genuinely. I rode the antique elevator and stepped out onto Market Street, walking confidently one more time past the tourists in line for the street car. I descended into the Powell Street BART station.

I felt sure that I’d never work for someone else again. My will to “work” was gone. I cashed out a big chunk of my retirement fund to buy myself some time. After all, I had spent years eating 80-cent Banquet® meals for lunch, saving for this moment.

The next morning, I opened my eyes to vastness. There was nothing but time to be filled, like I was just floating in space. I could do anything I wanted with that vastness — build a startup, write a book, or play Guitar Hero and eatnachos. That was every bit as scary as it was exciting. My mission was to reconnect with my curiosity — that feeling that I had…