The Luxury of Time

Not sure if I have blogged about this before, but in addition to my own business I also work part-time in another female-owned small food-based business (say that ten times fast!). This originally started because she and I had kitchens in the same building, and about 18 months ago she was desperate for a helping hand and asked if I'd pitch in. I helped that day, and then every once in a while when she needed an extra pair of hands - it was a very casual affair. Eventually winter came (the quiet time for me) and she asked if I'd do a regular once-a-week gig for her. Then DH lot his job, and it became a regular two day a week gig.

She's a lovely person, and the product is great...and there is no way I'd get the money or the conditions she offers anywhere else. And yet, I hate every single second of that job. I'm grateful for it - VERY grateful as it happens - but I can't stand it, and I swear small pieces of my soul chip away with every passing moment. The night before I go there, I'm irritable and annoyed about it. While I'm there, it can often take a while before my attitude catches up with my stern internal reminder that we need the money so I had better shut up and get on with it. At 5pm on the day I'm finished there, I practically skip out the door.

Why do I hate it so much? Simple - every moment I'm spending on HER business, I'm not spending on MY business. Here's where it gets messy. My business does not pay me enough to support my family, so I have to go out and find other means of financial support. HOWEVER if I invested that same amount of time in my business, I'd finally be able to grow it enough to actually then take the salary I need in order to succeed. Instead of investing that time in my business, I'm investing it in someone else's business and this is killing me. Slowly killing me.

The real criminal here is TIME. If I had the luxury of time - and if I could just tell the mortgage company, "Hey, listen, give me about a year and then I'll be all good!" - then just imagine what a force I'd be. Since I don't HAVE that luxury of time, well... I'm spending 2 days a week in a kitchen which is not my own and wishing I didn't have to be there. It sucks, and yet it's paying my bills.

Sometimes being a grown up is just no fun AT ALL.