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The Day I Became My Own Boss

I’d like to share with you the time I broke free from the grind that had been my work life, to finally start out as my own boss.

At sixteen I left school with relief and a big smile on my face, but no more than my wits to get me by. However, there came the small matter of earning money. I had realised we were a poor family on the day my mum told me that I was only allowed two teaspoons of cream three times a week with my desert.

In a short while I got a job in a clothes shop, then a boutique. Nine months after I became a labourer for my brother. Back then I was packed with energy; bounding up the stairs for fun and carrying down rubble heavier than a hippo (it felt that way anyhow!).

None of these jobs paid much, but it suited my lifestyle at the time. I played guitar with my friends and like most other musicians of my age, dreamt big dreams. I had girlfriends, travelled around a little and didn’t try too hard at anything. Even my increasing poetry writing ability, although fun, was only exercised once in a while.

At eighteen my father died of cancer and I planned to move in with friends; and so I had to draw the final curtain on the younger part of my life. I burned for the freedom to work when I wanted and earn more money in a shorter amount of time.

First I earned enough money on a building site to spend six months on a communal farm in Israel, but after a tough breakup there I headed straight back to England heartbroken.

I knew a little bit about decorating and worked for a few painting companies until they realised the little I knew really wasn’t worth knowing! So one day I made some leaflets promoting my painting services. On a few cold and wet December days I gave them all out. Unfortunately nothing happened.

Meanwhile I quickly used up the last of my funds. A week or so later I gathered together all my courage and, with long messy hair, jeans and a thick lumpy jumper, I knocked on doors asking if they needed any decorating.

One lady actually asked for a quotation! I gave her a price to paint her through-lounge ceiling and walls. I can still remember it being £300. She accepted, and I went home in a thick cloud of joy.

Two rainy days later I cried like a baby.

I held my painting roller while looking out the lounge window belonging to my first customer as it rained. I was earning four times more than ever before – and I cried with the happiness of achievement.

Since that day, I have always been my own boss and earned accordingly, and from that one lady’s trust in me to paint her through-lounge, came a successful painting and decorating company!

In my stories there are hard tasks to perform, terrible odds to be faced and difficult decisions to be made. In life a lot of things can be seem rather mundane. Never-the-less they still need just as much courage, determination and spirit to overcome. That is always how I have lived my life and I feel it has served me well.

Game Hunter sure has plenty of that!

All the best for now.

Mark

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