I used to tell my mom everything—from my (entirely uneventful) thoughts on men, to my idealistic views on the world (ignorant conservatives should have their bibles switched out for a Spanish-only edition as punishment for being cruel to immigrants), to the many “what do I do?!” moments one has while attempting to be an adult. Or…something.
Then, of course, she had to go and die, which meant a lot of things, but also this: My friends were doomed.
I have a Costa Rican girlfriend, for example, who has no effing clue what I’m talking about, maybe ever, but still hangs in there with me when I pepper her with rants about BS business practices or the word “newsletter,” or about the latest A/B test.
And another friend who nods politely before cutting me off to talk about The Bachelor. (I think we won’t be friends much longer.)
And another friend who tries to be sympathetic but I can tell I’m torturing her with every last mouthful of air so I actually just stop calling because I really don’t know what else I’d talk about. I don’t do babies, so what else is there? Yoga? Namaste me. I dare you.
See? Moms come in handy. They’re the only people on the planet who will actually bubble over with enthusiasm every time you so much as shave your armpits.
But if you don’t have a mom (or if the sound of her voice inspires you to cut yourself), then you have no choice but to find the second best alternative—especially if you run a business—because we have NEEDS, PEOPLE.
(There is perhaps nothing more deadly than a business owner who has nobody to express their frustration out on. This might even be scientific fact. I’ll look into it.)
Because next thing you know, you’re hurling Macbooks, assaulting your living room wall, sparring with the customer service representative from Verizon, clubbing your pet hamster.
All in a day’s work, I suppose, but more stressful than this needs to be.
And that’s really why I hire people to work with me. Who the hell wants to sit around all day by themselves? (Okay, fine, I hire them because they’re incredibly talented, but also, because we have conversations like these.)
It’s the small laughs every day that keep you sane, after all. (Also decidedly scientific.)
It’s why we talk all day on Basecamp as if our lives depend on it, and why I take mid-day breaks to bust out an interview (listen to this fun chat I had with new kid on the block Anthony, where I may or may be quoted saying, “I started this place for people to keep their balls”), and why reading randomly hilarious facts like this serves my creativity in the long run. (I think.)
It’s also why I spent all of 2014 building what will hit the mean streets of the internet this Tuesday, LOVE, BUSINESS OWNER. Part support community (there are foruuuuums) part reference tool (there are dashboooooarddddssss), and part all-of-my-best-advice-honed-after-years-of-fucking-up-so-you-don’t-have-to, I hope I can help keep YOU sane in this wild, wild west that is entrepreneurship. And business. And handling clients. And negotiating fees. And firing web designers. And answering EMAIL AFTER EMAIL AFTER EMAIL. And customers. And copycats. And refunds. And jerky people. And Twitter. Because let’s face it: Twitter was created to turn us all into a bunch of lunatics.
I think this is the part in the blog post when I’m suppose to give thanks or something because it’s November and 99% of all blog posts published in November give thanks (the other 1% talk about cooking turkeys), but I’m not going to do that because I would hate myself until 2015 for being so predictable.
But I will say this: Thank YOU.
Because whether you know it or not, you have always been my #1 support system. For almost six years now I’ve been telling YOU everything, from my (entirely uneventful) thoughts on men, to my idealistic views on the world (I still think that bible thing would be amusing) to the many “what do I do?!” moments one has while attempting to be an adult. Or…something.
You listen to my ideas around business, you stand next to me through thick and thin, and you’d probably even give me the benefit of the doubt if I did decide to update you when I shave my armpits. (Despite much-deserved eye-rolling.)
So while you’ve been someone I’ve come to be able to count on, it’s my hope that what I’ve created for you will now become a place where YOU can come to count on us. And on this community. And on others who are going through the same exact growing pains, hard days, pissy clients, and less-than-profitable months that you might be going through now.
I’ll tell you more about it on Tuesday, when we officially set the chickens loose & cut all sorts of hypothetical ribbons, but in the meantime, take the rest of today to lighten up, have a few laughs, and enjoy the fact that the only person who’s going to be bothering you today?
Is this jerk.