I’m starting a business. Actually, I’ve had the business for 10 years, but I just recently named it. Recently, like, 10 minutes ago when I called the Chase United Mileage Plus get-me-a-card-and-miles phone number. They asked what my employment status was. I didn’t think “living off whatever the man in the family can catch and kill” would get me a card, so I told them I was self employed. Fine. They asked me what line of business. I nearly choked, but Hal had prepped me, so I said, “Photography.” Then, the sneaky boogers asked me what the name of my company was. I’m so clever and so creative that you’d better hold on tight while I tell you the name.
And to think, I used to be good at lying. Perhaps I only know how to lie to native English speakers. So, good move with the outsourcing, Chase! You rascals.
Then, while mulling over my now-stuck-with-it stupid business name, I decided I could be witty and call it...
Sort of like LA Ink, but without all the boobs and swastikas.
Here’s the deal with my business, though. I don’t actually do anything. I mean, other than think about what I would do if I weren’t so nervous, if I had a studio, if I had lights, if I had enough gumption (I’ve always wanted to write that word) to haul myself down to Office Depot to make business cards. I really think that the best thing, for me, about my new Self Employed status is that I really don’t have to answer to anyone about how I spend, or don’t spend, my time. In fact, I think I’ll reward myself for a good job undone by giving myself use of the company credit card to go get dinner. If, that is, Chase is stupid enough to approve me.