Team-building for freelancers

Reason #25,790,864 to go freelance is team-building exercises.

[collective groan] One of my poor readers* was telling me about having to undergo this extreme indignity. Something about Mexican food and bachelorette parties, it’s all very confusing, but excruciating any way that you look at it.

The freelancer could do with a little team-building now and again. But team-building doesn’t have to involve karaoke (true story), group hugs (fictional), or binge drinking (true story). Maybe you can take your tax accountant out to coffee to discuss this year’s deductions. Maybe you can send a friendly email to one of your clients in a blatant attempt for more work.

Find some other freelancers and spend an hour over beers grousing about your jobs and lack thereof. Read your blogs. Walk the dog, he’s the closest thing you have to a colleague, well according to him anyway.

What do you (or will you) miss the least about the cube?

 

*Reader, feel free to report on the horrors.

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5 responses to “Team-building for freelancers

  1. My husband has to go to manager team-building seminars where they do role play. He’s not shy, but an introvert in the extreme (opposites attract, no?). It gives me great joy to send texts to him during that unfortunate event asking who’s wearing the dog collar.

    Binge drinking should be assumed at such an exercise.

  2. Jesus, team-building seminars. I think our directors have been to one too many of those. They always return sounding grimly optimistic, with nailed-on smiles and pithy sayings about what we can all accomplish in an atmosphere of mutual respect and cooperation. Fucking nauseating, seriously.

    • What pisses me off about this sort of the thing is the implication that if a worker is not an extrovert, (s)he’s a detriment to the team. Give me my work, sit me in a corner, and leave me the hell alone. That’s what I want in the workplace.

  3. How did you know about the Mexican food thing? They did that for my fish bowl (not cubicle) work too! And the woman who led the thing had this apron on that said “I am your chef Michel” and we had to pronounce it “Michelle.” Someone should have told her (don’t they copy edit aprons?). And then we had to use commercially crushed garlic.

    “Scandale!” i cry… (I cry in French. It’s more spectaculaire.)

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