Confessions from the third bedroom

The next time some well-meaning relative asks me how my 'little' business is going, when I’m getting an office, or, if I’m still 'just' freelancing, I’m going to chop down the family tree. It really gets my goat.

The first thing I want to fire back is: How’s your little job going? Do you ever leave your office nowadays? Are you still just selling your soul?

The most annoying bit is that I let it get to me. Why should I care? I’m Big Noel. I shouldn't give a rats if people with ‘real jobs’ think I spend my days sleeping in, watching Oprah and putting out the washing.

So why do I feel pressure to get an office with a Herman Miller chair and a brushed steel logo sitting above a polished granite benchtop with fresh cut flowers and the latest edition of Fortune magazine?

Do I really need thick-rimmed glasses, a tailored suit, an iPhone and a Gucci compendium to feel good about myself?

Just between us, my angst must relate to deep down insecurity within me about my choices.

But all a bloke wants at the end of the day is a little R.E.S.P.E.C.T. That could be why every now and then I find myself scanning the jobs boards wondering if I’m missing out on a respectable, cushy corporate job somewhere with the latest BlackBerry and a corporate gym.

Maybe that’s why I’m secretly jealous when my high-flying sales consultant friends get back from their week-long junket in Phuket.

Well enough’s enough. I have decided to drop the towel and expose the truth about my small – okay micro – business.

Today, I have some confessions to make:

“We” are not a boutique consultancy catering for the needs of leading Australian businesses big and small. I just sit in my cramped third bedroom and charge by the hour.
“We” do not tailor individual solutions based on your needs via our network of expert consultants with in-depth experience in your industry. I do sometimes work with Phil though, and he’s a pretty good bloke.
Our “accounts department” is not requesting an update on the scheduled progress payment for job #6037. But my wife wants to know when you’re going to cough up because we need a new fuse box.
I currently have a chirping chicken in my shower cubicle, courtesy of my daughter’s pre-school. I have to carry the box outside when the phone rings.
I regularly put my head down on the desk and snooze around 2.30pm.
I sometimes work in my pyjamas.
And, I have answered the office phone in the nude after a shower – more than once.

So there it is. That feels better. That’s the awful truth. Big Noel’s real name should be Tiny Tim. I’m small, I’m alone and I’m happy.

Do you have anything to get off your chest?

Noel Ranger is a real Australian soloist operating a professional service business. Basically, if you pay his hourly rate he’ll pretty much do whatever.

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When questioning a new client about their previous accountant she replied, "some small person with a couple of staff working from an office under the house"
which wouldn't be so bad, except I too work from home in an office under the house, with a staff of two. Denise Maffey CA from Kumeu NZ
Love this article! Makes me laugh and not take things so seriously for a change. Chris from Balmain
Spot on dude. I bet you've also typed a few proposals in your undies and created process improvement ideas while on The John.
C'mon, you've already made it this far with your confessions.
If it's any consolation, I read Flying Solo in the nude. And yup, you guessed it.....
Jeremy Grey from Melbourne, Australia
Just have a look at a site like http://www.rta.nsw.gov.au/trafficreports/innersydcameras/gladesvillebr.html in peak hour and you have all the justification you could ever need to work from the 3rd bedroom! Grant Hyman from Sydney | Read my articles
Truth be known the guys in the corporate office are little bit green with envy at the "home office" micro businesses. Gary from Perth
My late mother-in-law at 89 (God bless her soul) never could understand that I worked from a home office. She persisted in believing that I was a 'well kept wife' as free as a bird to do as I wished. It was beyond her comprehension that I enjoyed my work, let alone that it was a necessity. She lived two blocks away in an assisted living home with nursing facilities, and would call me - usually in the middle of a big job - to say something like, "dear, I need to go shopping for a bra right now. Then we'll have lunch together." The benefits of working from 'bedroom four' in our old house meant I could catch up on my work later after having done exactly what she requested! Right till the end, she could not comprehend that I actually worked from home; however, she was very special to us all having been born the year Titanic sank which was a very different world to the one we now live in. Karen from Springwood NSW

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