It’s 8AM as I write this blog post, I’m staring out the windows of my condo (a pretty view up as a storm passing by) and reminiscing of the days I got started as an entrepreneur.
I hated my job. I worked my ass off, but I didn’t feel like what I did was changing the world and I absolutely wasn’t valued for who I was. I knew I had to get out.
So with that thought I quit. I said I can do this myself.
I didn’t have any savings really, and I didn’t really think through what this decision would entail to survive.
Just one of those moments, where frustration meets resolve.
I remember, I didn’t even have a desk… I worked on the floor on a laptop or my tiny tiny kitchen table in a 550 SQ ft townhouse. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to get me going.
