There’s a $1000 check in my metre box
Usually, the merits of being a small businessmanguyperson far outweigh any of the detractions, but then there's days where you wonder how the other "little guys" do it.
When I announced that I wasn't going to do SEO any more, AND that I was going to go on Baby Leave for 18 weeks, it was as if the floodgates opened. Clients that I hadn't heard from since before Xmas were all-of-a-sudden needing to get me their stuff, and sign up for new stuff, and pay me.
And. Pay. Me.
SWEEEEEET.
That part has been pure gold, but the shit parts are the insistence, the hurry that people have put into things now.
"We've only got a week! HURRY! Pay him and then he'll finish our project the night before his baby pops out!"
Um, no.
I'm not actually going to do that, nor am I going to actually work on Baby Leave, that's kind of the whole point.
So, I'm happily turning projects down or turning them over to Dub-T, my mate in Waroona who's going to take on the mantle of New SEO Guy of Awesome.
I've found that I like saying "No" a whole lot, particularly when they look like trouble anyway.
"We want to rank for 'training courses' before July, and the only way to update our system is to email Ravi and ask very nicely for stuff. Wait a week or so for a reply, sometimes the goats really wander off and he gets delayed."
"Can't help you, but I'll send your details on to... [insert overpriced fucko SEO guy in Perth's name here]. HE'LL take care of you, real nice."
But then one of my wacky colleagues, an odd little duck that I met a while ago, brings me another client (she's good for a half-dozen a year on average) that she wants to "get in under the Judd wire."
I tell her no. I emailed these people ages ago to discuss the project. I sent them documents and asked for their feedback and heard nothing. They want to rank for a retardedly difficult term and had no budget... no, No, NO.
Then, while me and the entire family waited an hour and a half for the Gasser Babydoc (anaesthetist), I get a call that I decline, then a voicemail, then a text (which was almost a verbatim copy of the voicemail, except for the typos, heh):
I told them your the best and they really want you to do their project and they put there money where there mouth is and there a cheque in your metre box for $1055
Well shee-it.
Turns out I can be bought.
Or rather, that smicko new pram and carseat can. Muh-hur-hur.
