I want to state again for the record, and for full disclosure's sake that I have a day job. It has demands, deadlines, and I owe at least some loyalty to it. My employer, after all, trusted me (and my skills) enough to allow me to represent them, now, on two separate occasions.
My day job feeds my family, keeps me in clothes, and allows me to stay out of foreclosure. These are good things. Basic needs . . . one might say.
So . . . please, do not for one second assume that I have a thriving business. In fact, and in my mind, I haven’t even “launched” it yet. The target date for completion of my baseline infrastructure is softly set for March 1, 2010. This is the day that I plan to begin actively promoting myself, and my business.
Still -- you might ask -- Do you get inquiries now; is there interest; do you take jobs? Yes, Yes, and Yes. But the real answer is, for each of these questions – honestly, not enough to quit my day job.
Part of starting a business is finding a good financial planner
I have a network. (Yeah, one that doesn’t start with the word “social.”) Within that network, I am fortunate to have some professional-types, including, well, one hell of a top notch accountant. I think he would prefer, so I will say it; he is a “small business advisor."
I met Chris S. at his office around six. His office, a piece of work, is filled with more clocks than any one man needs . . . about 40 to be exact. (Hmmm . . . I wonder what point he is trying to get across.) He knew ahead of time I hoped to review the financials associated with my business plan. I assumed he wouldn't bill me, and in the end, he didn't.
Chris has some great stories, and offered many good points. For weeks after, though, it seemed I was left to mubble two things: 1. “What are my assumptions?” and 2. “Accountants are business people, too.”
assumptions make an a** out of me
I remember the first time I hung a full room of drywall. It was the middle room of our first house as a married couple, and not the ceiling, 12 sheets total. Sure, I worked around it as a punch-out guy. In fact, I had gotten pretty good at doing quick repairs on it. But I had never tackled an entire room solo.
I dialed up some how-to articles, asked some friends, and, in general, I studied. Hang, fasten, tape, block, skim, sand – easy enough.
In an old house – a 1920’s federal-style rowhome in Uppers Fells Point, the only full bath had at some point been awkwardly placed within the footprint of this room. By my estimates, the last time these rooms were updated – roughly 1980.
So the day came (this was back before I had kids). I probably loaded in the night before, and was ready to go with an eight am start – Saturday. And boom – like a superstar, I made it happen . . . the room was glued, screwed; taped and blocked by the end of that Sunday night. I was the man!
Then I went to work Monday morning. Back in those days, I would return home after work and would often get a few things accomplished. By Saturday of the next week, we were ready for primer – the “show coat." I primed, still super proud of myself, and after a few hours working side by side with my wife (she’s really the painter) – the walls were primed.
Two coats of deep red satin paint went on that Sunday.
More on the Show Coat
There is was, at the top of the wall -- the one you turned right into when you came up the stairs – a gigantic hump. Not a hump in my taping, you know, not poorly feathered edges, but a hump in the wall.
Now – if you know me by now, I am pretty neurotic. I couldn’t live with this. But I just didn't see it initially. So, what did I do? I cut it out, a 2x2 area, and it wasn’t easy – right there at the ceiling. But I did it, and I did get it fixed by the following weekend.
What was the problem? You might ask. Well, I made the stupid assumption that the walls I had just removed dated sheet-paneling from were . . . plumb and square!
Today, I work framing checks into all of my project schedules, and this has never happened to me again. But that first time, I had to learn, you know, the hard way.
Setting the record straight
You might have read recently about the roof job I finished for a neighbor. Simply put, I know I could have done a better job.
If you read it, I know where I went wrong . . . and maybe I still have much to learn (the issue much deeper). I assumed that the work my friend did prior to me arriving was, well, perfect. I didn’t realize that it wasn’t until it was far too late.
There and then, this piece was sparked. If I want to move forward with what I plan (here with Building Moxie), I better correct that behavior fast.
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As the big builder used to say, Rule #1 – Never put good work over bad. That is simple and smart. In other words, never assume that what has come before you is actually true and correct, because it may burn you. Always check! (And I won’t tell you what Rule #2 is.)
Green is the new black & all start ups are based on assumptions
I always like to say this in my big monster truck voice, hear me, “ASSUMPTIONS.” Yes, and all business plans are based on assumptions. I assume fundamentally that my prospects, my audience have a need for what I offer. If they do not, they will tell me. And I will react.
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I have been out in this "social" world, more than less openly, for the last three months. It strikes me as odd, though, as I began coming out, just how frequently I would be fingered as “green.”Sure, there are some elements of me, and more elements of my business that are mindful of home-smart, earth-friendly techniques. But to come at me as if I am proponent of everything with a stamp of “green" on it, would be a bad assumption.
Building Moxie is, as I have told people (and some with more success than others), blue, brown & . . . green. And what I mean -- it is all the colors of a prism (and sometimes none), personally fitted to suit each individual's individual needs.
More Moxie:
Tons of great articles and videos out there on how to hang & finish drywall, I can't pick just one: http://www.google.com/search?hl=en&q=how+to+hang+and+finish+drywall&aq=f&oq=&aqi=
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Thank you for your comment. B. Moxie B. More