I love being a freelancer, but that doesn’t mean that working at home is all raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens. I do miss the silly banter and the unexpected insights that arise out impromptu conversations with colleagues. And the border between work and play can get pretty blurred. (Stop calling my name, you evil poltergeist—I’m talkin’ to you, MacBook.) Without a doubt, I work as many, and often more, hours now than I did at most of my office jobs (and I wasn’t what you’d call a slacker before).

All in all, it can get pretty claustrophobic to spend so many hours inside the same four walls. (Was that me you heard talking to herself? Um, no, of course not—that was the computer…) But before you think this post is turning into a tidy little pity party, let me get to the point. (Yes, would you?) (Okay, now you’re just being impertinent…)

Except for four years spent on an idyllic-looking college campus, I’ve been commuting on the NYC subway system since I was 11 years old. I realize that the city’s 24-hour metro is an amazing thing—MTA, going your way, and all that jazz—but after so many years of having random strangers wedging their oversize knapsacks and shoulder bags (and God knows what else) into the small of my back, it gets a little old. Call me nutty. (Well, I did mention that I sometimes yammer to myself…)

Not having to commute is one of the best things about freelance life, but even better is a day like today, when I can take my work on the road.

Destination: Rockaway Beach. And before you roll your eyes, yes, I actually did do work. In addition to writing this blog and snapping the following pics, I also edited text and read background research for two different projects. But I was lucky enough to do it all in sun-drenched splendor, and it only took me two hours by subway to get there. (That, my friends, is what we call irony.)

Forthwith, a few photos of my temporary field office… (For sharper, larger versions of the photos, click on each image.)

P.S. I was sitting on the sand, writing, when the earthquake hit (words I never thought I’d type in NYC). It was an odd sensation—old hat for all you Angelenos and San Franciscans, no doubt, but new to me. I’ve only ever been in one earthquake (in L.A.), and it was a mild one that woke me up in the early morning hours, so before I even realized what it was, it was over. Today, my first thought was, “it must be the subway rumbling by”, until I realized that the elevated tracks of the A train shuttle were a good block and a half away. Then I wondered if maybe I needed to eat something; perhaps I was getting lightheaded from hunger (words I never thought I’d type, period). And then the possibility dawned on me. Earthquake? Nah, not here.

I guess that, barring a tsunami, there are worse places in the world to experience some tremors…