I’m still noodling away on my happiness post, and when I finally finish it, it’s probably going to be a gigantic letdown. I’ve been talking about it for weeks now! But today, I want to talk again about being an entrepreneur.
I’ve talked about this a bit before, specifically in this January post on the ups and the downs of being an entrepreneur. And here I am, six months later still struggling with the same things.
Wednesday is an example of a perfectly typical day in the life of Al.
6:30am: Wake up, basking in the warm and fuzzies from Tuesday evening, when awesome potential 2013 wedding clients became official wedding clients. Woohoo! I’m awesome! Life is great! Let’s get this day started!
7:00am: Eat breakfast, drink coffee, catch up on the internet and sit down to work. Work on both photography business and Canadian tax filing software business (which I still haven’t told you guys about, I’m brutal!)
10:30am: Email from (other) potential 2013 clients—who sounded super awesome—telling me they’ve decided not to book with me because they relate to a few others better. Burst into tears. Immediately try to change my email ding, because it is much too happy sounding to deliver such bad news. (Seriously. I did that). Get more and more and more annoyed at the hubs as he tries to change this into a learning experience. E.g., “What can you do differently next time?” Grrrr.
11:00am: Drag the hubs out of the house to go play tennis, because I seriously need a change of scenery. And to smack the crap out of the tennis balls (to the best of my limited ability). Get progressively more annoyed at how poorly I’m playing. But beginning to feel better anyway because that’s what excercise (and smacking the crap out of tennis balls) does to you.
12:30pm: Get home and sit back down to start some market research while the hubs makes lunch.
1:00pm: Eat lunch. The hubs not only made lunch, but did the dishes. This makes me exceedingly happy. Happy twirl!
1:23pm: “Ding”, goes the email. “I hate you, stupid happy ding”, thinks me.
1:24pm: Read email. Reread email. Reread email again.
1:25pm: Think to myself: “Did I seriously just get an email from the number one wedding blog that starts with Congratulations? Happy ding, I love you!”
1:26pm: Reread email.
1:27pm: Commence happy dance. Tell the hubs. His response is “What’s [insert name of wedding blog here]?” I proceed to roll my eyes at him and continue happy dancing.
1:45pm: Email best photographer friend to share the good news.
1:46pm: Get back to work and put in a good solid five point five hours of uninterrupted, no distractions work. Frequent giggling to myself about my good fortune. And a few rereads of the “congratulations” email.
6:00pm: Begin to get hungry, we had salad for lunch. Realize that it is Wednesday and we haven’t yet picked up farm box.
6:15pm: Leave to go pick up CSA farm box. While on the walk, begin beating myself up about sending the email to my photographer friend (who hasn’t yet received such a “congratulations” email, herself). Should I maybe not have done that? Was that inconsiderate? Am I the world’s biggest bitch? (This notwithstanding the happy dance email that she sent me). Proceed to beat myself up and get grumpy. Also hangry.
6:45pm: Get back home. Hubs is not ready to leave for dinner. Grr. Hanger.
7:00pm: Leave for restaurant, because it’s date night courtesy of our friend Groupon. Get progressively crazier and crazier on the walk. Crazy person laughing ensues. Hubs wonders aloud what he’s got himself into.
7:15pm: Arrive at restaurant. There is a wait. Hanger.
7:45pm: Get table. Order supper. Bask in its deliciousness and the fact that date night only cost $31. Spend date night discussing tax software (it’s looking awesome) and marketing plans. Feeling pretty excited.
9:00pm: Begin walk home. Being discussing potential for tax software to fail. Begin to get more and more distressed.
9:30pm: Have a night cap. Watch HGTV. Laugh at that goofy “Income Property” guy as he goes into matrix mode.
10:00pm: Reread email. Go to bed. Read book. All in all, a pretty average day.