I Hope They Don’t Find Me Out

I was working at my first job out of college when someone planted the idea in my head.  A manager (not mine) in the Fortune 100 where I worked once asked, “If you could have any job, what would it be?  What would you rather do than this?”

Well.  At the time, I wanted to just about anything other than “that”, even if that meant skinning roaches for use in stews I’d later feed to my family.  I was working for a tyrant in a cube-lined office on the 12th floor of an ugly building in a shoddy part of town and harbored fantasies of living on a boat and sailing around the world.

“I think I’d like to run a department.  Senior executive.  Be the person making decisions.”

“Really?”  He cocked his blonde head at me.  I wondered if this pastor-on-the-side father of three wanted to shag me.

“Sure.”

“Hm.  That’s surprising.  I picture you running your own business.”

I made the brilliant decision of ignoring that suggestion and following daddy’s footsteps by taking corporate job after corporate job.  But unlike daddy, losing corporate job after corporate job.  All in the same field.  All stepping up into more responsibility and more cash.  All making the concept of slitting my wrists more and more appealing.  All ending in my departure on their terms due, in most cases, to “a poor fit”.

I have never been fired, but I have often been bored.  Which led to me actively seeking more work.  Which always annoyed people for some reason.  Which ultimately sent me down the path of business political purgatory which I’ve never understood and will never be able to tolerate.  And before I knew it I’d pissed someone off who would rather swing his dick around that go to bat for the future of the business.

A few years ago, I was offered a very good position by a well-regarded the chapter president of a professional association I belonged to.  She was eager to hire me so I could adequately destroy their political landscape in my mad, mad quest to create a world I wanted to live and work in.  At around the same time, a man I’d never met recommended me to a smaller ($7MM) company as a consultant.

Hm.  Become a cubed professional with a level of security that exceeded that of a cardboard trampoline?  Or work from home doing what I love for more money but with absolutely no security?

I chose the latter and, at long last, started my own business.

Over the last few years, I’ve had a few Ramen Noodle days where I’d wondered what I’d done. My father would say things like, “Well, you might have to get a job.” If I said anything to him about running out of money.  And I’d be grateful that he was miles away so I wasn’t able to slap him.
 
Then, some time ago, when I started speaking to targeted groups with the help of some magnificent and supportive people in power (and in the know), business took off.  For my part, I was quite shocked that people believed I knew what I was talking about and actually wanted to pay me more money than I feel I deserve to do what I love the most.   For clients so fantastic, I could never have imagined.

When my dad retired about 10 years ago, his final words at his retirement party were an awed, “They never found me out.” 

I hope I can keep doing what I’m doing until they realize I have no idea what I’m doing.  I hope they don’t find me out, either.