Where Is It Going?

The question on my mind the past week has been where the hell my life is going.

This week has probably been one of my best weeks since I started business. Several hundreds of pounds of profit, all from doing not very much at all. Laid end to end, you’re not talking more than three days of the week. But that’s never the way the cookie crumbles, so I suppose that’s not relevant.

And yet it feels like it’s been quiet. It feels like I haven’t had enough work, and that at any moment the whole thing is going to stop dead. And it probably will.

When it does, I’ll go out leafleting once more. And that in turn will, hopefully, get things moving again.

Unsurprisingly, this vision of my future has left me feeling a little… underwhelmed.

The real reason why I’m starting to worry is that the past couple of weeks have, despite profit, been a considerable disappointment. Several major leads in quick succession have failed. On all of those I had pinned many hopes that the business was going to start evolving into one that had important contracts with other businesses, thus providing me with a stable income, a solid platform to build from, and, with success more success will follow.

But none of that will now happen.

I’m sort of back to the drawing board. Until I get something like that, I will not feel like progress is being made. Doing odd jobs for home customers is all well and good, and earns me cash, but it is not secure, and it makes me feel like a bit of a spare part, who can do a few tricks with Windows. My work is valued, my customers like the service, but I don’t feel “valued” in a professional sense. Only other businesses can truly appreciate that.

I am ambitious for the future, but don’t want to wait. I feel like I’ve spent enough of my life waiting around for things to happen. But what can I do? I want the rate of progress to increase, but it is so slow it’s unbearable. I worry that I’ll still be in this exact position in a year’s time. That will be another year of my life gone, and still waiting for things to improve.

Maybe this is what life is like. Maybe I’m one of these people who will never be satisfied. That whatever happens, it’s happened too late, too slowly and not in a way that makes me feel like I’m heading somewhere.

A part of me says I should quit whinging and be grateful. But that would be succuming to fatalism, something I don’t believe in. I am in control of my destiny.

Except I’m not fully. I can do my part to get the word out, but whether people respond is another matter…

Still, it beats working nights in a petrol station.

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