I didn’t go to visit Suwanda, nor did I go to the tapas bar. I got a call from Client #6, two calls about new projects and/or assignments, and a positive response to my email about that music theory book. Chanthaboune and I haven’t entered any writing contests together in a while, so I think this will be the equivalent. We have an audition to do.We need to write 10 pages on some thorny topic in music theory in the style of a Head First book.
I think we can do this. Actually, there are much harder variations on that theme. It could be in the style of Ernest Hemingway or something.
“There are time signatures. Some are common time signatures. Some are cut time signatures. Some use other numbers. Common time signatures are good. Common time signatures are good and strong and manly.”
Nope. Couldn’t do that very well.
We have a music blog we can post it on if we don’t succeed with the audition, so it won’t be a waste either way.
Actually, it wasn’t my fault that I didn’t make that visit. I couldn’t get hold of The Link, though I called twice. It is true that I had lots of work to do, and it was in some ways a good thing that I didn’t go, but it wasn’t my fault.
So I was there to hover vulture-like over the Amazon Vine offerings. I went ahead (see yesterday’s Make Hay While the Sun Shines argument) and scrolled quickly down to the bottom of the choices, where they keep the expensive items that get snapped up right away.
I had given that up. The past couple of months I didn’t hover, and I quite enjoyed the Emerald Cocoa Roast Almonds they sent me, too. This month, though, I was there on time and snapped up Microsoft’s new accounting software and a fancy sonic toothbrush.
Accounting software? Does this mean that I have mentally committed myself to self-employment and will quit hunting for or wistfully thinking about salaried jobs?
No. I did, however, get a rejection letter for one of the other jobs I applied for back when I was unemployed. They never called or interviewed me, but I was glad to have to the letter instead of just wondering.
And I did add a potential Client #8 to my list.
A local jeweler was having an open house, and Janalisa invited me and #1 daughter. We went, along with several others. The jewelry was very beautiful — click on the link to her web site if you want to have a look.
Janalisa had mentioned that she had a new web site, so I went and checked it out. I was able — when asked — to make some suggestions for her, and she asked for my contact information.
Did I have business cards? Do I have a web site or a professional email address? You know I don’t. I wrote my contact information on a bit of paper, using the email address Client #2 gave me, even though I’m afraid that sort of makes me look as though I’m a member of the firm. It was all I could think of on the spur of the moment. So what am I doing requesting accounting software?
At the least, I’ll be able to review it from the point of view of someone who knows nothing about accounting. I can say how it works for people who are entirely helpless about their business finances.
Not entirely helpless, though, because Blessing emailed me and asked who needed to be invoiced. I, thinking “What? You’re kidding. We just invoiced people!” would not have thought of it on my own. I bet the software doesn’t do that for you.
The open house was fun. #1 daughter told stories from Cowboy Land, and we all played with the jewelry and invaded the jeweler’s studio (an exciting place, I assure you). There was the moment when I mistook a toaster oven for a kiln, but I didn’t break anything, and I was able to give her some tips about approaching retail establishments.
It is not impossible that I could do all my marketing in this way: checking out local people’s websites and giving them some helpful advice. They will then say, as this woman did, “Can you just move in?”
I declined that invitation, but did assure her that I’d be happy to work with her on her marketing. At that point I should have whipped out a business card, but I haven’t gotten there yet.
Having eight clients would make it impossible for me to keep them straight by numbers. I would have to quit talking about them.