Sshhhhhht! Don’t tell anyone, but I’ve got a confession to make. See, I’ve been completely and utterly undecided. No, not about the big vote, I’ve been completely and utterly decided on which box I will be placing my X in long since. Nope, the vacillation, the dithering and the procrastination causing all kinds of angst
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Tag Archives: enterprise
Man the barricades, sisters, we’re talkin’ ‘bout a revolution round here. Never one to shy away from a righteous cause, or the advancement of womankind, I’m volunteering my services as a fully-paid up revolutionary. This will come as no great surprise to anyone who knows the paternal background of this particular sole trading adventurer and
Hate to say it, but hot flushes and hormonal heeby jeebies are happening ’round my house. (And BTW, I realise it’s a bit off the beaten path of small business chat to discuss an SME owning mother’s mid life matters. But if you’ve not got the biz balls for women’s troubles, you’d better shape up,
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
Forgive me fashionistas, but I’m all of a fankle. Being bang on trend just ain’t my bag, baby. Unless you count being hopelessly and happily stuck in some strange late 70s vortex where Fred Perry polos and Bass Weejun loafers are de rigeur, that is. See, for me, getting all dressed up just don’t feel
It’s no laughing matter. Getting sick when you’re running your own business, that is. Touch wood, cross fingers and rub a rabbit’s foot but in the year since embarking on the insanity that is self-employment I have been tickety-boo healthwise. In fact, I have been feeling a whole lot better in body and mind since
Two days into the school summer holidays, and my nerves are in tatters already… I’ve been fretting for weeks about how exactly I am going to carry on at the commercial coalface whilst the Word Up Wean is mumping, moaning, and generally getting under my feet whilst school’s out for summer. See, I’m not one
Only kidding. Kidding myself, and everyone else, on. Because, you see, I’ve been telling fibs. Not wee white lies, but great big porkies. Not the kind of lies that are going to get me hauled up by the polis, or land me in the dock – I’m not a politician, a tabloid editor, a banker,
Annoy Your Kids. Surely one of the most important inclusions on any parent’s job description? However, it’s a bit rich for me to cast aspersions on anyone else’s parenting skills, seeing as I often rate pretty damn low on the Word Up Wean’s goodwill to all mumkind scale. So please forgive me when I moan
Polished professionals, business behemoths and the fabulously famous don’t mean diddly squat to me. Well okay then, I might make an exception for David Bowie, but when it comes to role models, whether in business, personal or social life, I like mine real, and preferably with a few rough edges. Because for me, fame doesn’t
