I remember the first time I went out on my first road bike and it was terrifying. I gripped the bars as hard as I could and gingerly rode off with one foot unclipped until I went around the corner out of sight from my parents. “This is a doddle,” I thought as I clipped in my foot about 200m before the end of my street. I looked right to see a car coming and that’s when it all went a little bit Pete Tong. A split second felt like a good twenty minutes as I barrelled to the floor with an audible thud and gentle tick of my freehub. My bike was fine, so I collected my ego off the floor and got back up again. The car and its driver continued with their day without even batting an eye.
I’ve picked myself up and dusted myself off many times since then, both on and off the bike and I’m about to embark on something during which this pattern will likely repeat for some time. I’m going freelance.
I’ve never worked for myself before and the lack of that life-affirming cyclical pay cheque will no doubt bring its own challenges. I’ve heard horror and praise for the freelance lifestyle but overwhelmingly its greatest conquerors already tell me how rewarding it is (or perhaps that’s the bias of my own survey of workers). It’s daunting, it’s me putting myself out there (which I rarely voluntarily do) and it’s me hustling for your business.
To keep myself sane and others inspired, I hope to document my journey of self-employment: the highs, the lows, the dull days, the days I spend chasing accounts payable, the 18 hour days and everything in between. I’ll answer silly questions I had before I started like “how do I pay my National Insurance?” and “what if I run out of money next week?” - granted the last one has very real consequences but hopefully it won’t come to that.
That’s enough free twaddle for now. You can pay me if you want more! Send pyjamas and freshly brewed coffee. I can no longer afford them myself.