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STRESS RELIEF ESCAPE FANTASIES

Because there’s only one thing worse than working for yourself … and that’s working for somebody else!” – JRI

As you well know, unless you’re in the first-blush start-up phase as an entrepreneur, business is tough.  It can wear you down.  Long hours, customers/clients who keep forgetting how much they love and need you, employees who will never be worth what you are paying them, the IRS, etc., etc., etc.

No, no, it isn’t always bad.  In fact, it’s really about as sweet as it comes on most days.  The freedom.  The control.  The opportunity to make a ton of money.  The ability to ruin your own life rather than have some brain dead department head do it for you.

I’ve been in business for myself for more than 25 years.  That means I’m essentially unemployable.  Nonetheless, there are long stretches when I fantasize about going to work for “Da Man” (aka. anybody who will give me two paychecks a month, whether I work hard or not).  Still, even my own children have told me that I wouldn’t last halfway through the first Monday morning meeting before I’d start shaking my head, mumbling to myself, excusing myself to go to the restroom, and beating feet for the front door … never to return.  Phew!  So, I try to keep my escape fantasies more realistic … sort of.   

Here are my two most vivid ones:

Escape Fantasy # 1:  It’s a bit vague, as most fantasies are, but I imagine cleaning out my bank account and going to Las Vegas, where I connect with a couple of leggy showgirls, who help me “invest” my money on one wild spin of the wheel  (you know, sort of like investing in the stock market these days).

When I begin daydreaming about this fantasy (talk about a brilliant exit strategy!), I know I’m stressed.  When I add a monkey to the mix – as in Las Vegas, two showgirls and a monkey – I know I’m way over the redline at stress overload.  (And, no, I’m never sure where the monkey fits in, so get your minds out of the gutter.)

Escape Fantasy # 2:  This one’s a bit more mundane.  I find myself thinking about getting a $10-an-hour job behind the counter of a convenience store, growing my hair, picking up a few tattoos, putting in my eight-hour shift, and then clocking out and forgetting about work for the rest of the day.  (I do try to ignore the fact that I will end up either living in my car or in the basement or garage of a soon-to-be ex-friend.)

My point:  there is no point to this silly blog, except that, if you find yourself dealing with stress and dreaming about finding a VW van and heading across the country, give me a call; I just might want to go along.

Work hard.  Make money.  Have fun … and if you’re not doing all three of these, at least enjoy your escape fantasy! 

John R. Ingrisano (aka, the Freestyle Entrepreneur)

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