Wonga, dosh, moolah and wedge. Money has been much on my mind this month and not just because Christmas is starting to exert its ruinous grip. In fact, the economic devastation begins early chez nous thanks to the Word Up Wean’s insistence on having his birthday in November. Inconsiderate wee blighter. However, there’s nothing like the annual
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Tag Archives: business start up
You’d think I’d know better. After more than half a century of this mortal coil, anyone might think that I, a middle aged, middle class proper professional person of the female persuasion, am far too grown up and sensible to still be flicking the V to certain parts of society. Well, d’you know what? Bugger that.
Wrinkles, a spare tire, sag and spread. A light sprinkling of liver spots, the sprouting of some rather robust facial hair, a pair of creaky knees, a brace of aching hips, and the distinct droop of a once proud embonpoint. Another year is about to pass into the history books, adding another chapter to the litany of advancing
Business, it’s like childbirth. Well alright then, commerce is heehaw like childbirth, but there certainly are a couple of uncomfortable parallels. Firstly, if you knew the truth about what running a business is really like you’d have to think very seriously indeed about whether you’d go through it or not. And then, of course, there’s the exhaustion.
Cut the crap. Basically, that’s been my commercial mantra since setting out on this sole trading malarkey two years ago (two whole years and not bankrupt yet, whew). Tell it like it really is in small business – highs and lows, warts and all – that was the simple objective for this commerce confessional. I
I am pure authentic, me. Really, I am. When it comes to small business, I am the real deal. I am 100% pure in heart, mind and practice. Except, of course, I’m not. What I am is 100% pure human business being – flaws, foibles, failings and all. If that makes me genuine and brimful
It’s not about the money, money, money… Well actually, it is. Profit margin matters. Make no mistake, bringing in the moolah is right up there on my personal and professional priority list. As I never tire of telling anyone who’s seriously thinking about joining the small business circus, you gotta be in it for love
Pop the corks, hang the bunting high and hoist the mainsail, it’s my birthday! Well, not my birthday, dear knows I’ve banged on enough about my recent half century coming of age – at this rate I’ll need to join the ranks of the right royal, and have an official birthday as well as one
Expert? Who, me? Expert in heehaw. Or at least that’s what my instant reaction was when introduced recently at a client’s board meeting as a “media expert”. S’funny being called an expert, and brings the self-effacing Scot in me rushing right up to the surface, but expertise is all relative, innit? Compared to the good people
Sole trading? It’s enough to make me sick. Picture the scene. It’s half an hour before you’re due to head off to deliver some work for a client, when the words that strike fear and loathing into the very soul of every sole trader or small business come calling. No, not “hello, this is HMRC,
