Not knowing how good a new dish will taste; Not knowing if someone you’re about to meet will be a new addition to your life, or a new source of pain. Not knowing. I hate it. But it’s also… beautiful, in a way? <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I have started a small business, and my goal is to have enough regular customers by the time I graduate such that I don’t even need to jump into a corporate job after graduation — I can just continue my own business (Gold Fox Dev).<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The sad thing is, I continue to see it more and more as a “dream” than a goal. With each passing day that I have yet to have a single client, the depressing dagger of defeat presses a bit deeper.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
With each dollar I spend, each dollar that could’ve been spent on nicer food, new clothes, or in a perfect world I’d be putting *extra* money in savings. Extra, though, is something I lack. Rather, money is transferred from other subjects, such as food, to advertising.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I feel the two can be interchangeable. Just me? Hope is a beautiful thing, it’s really a big factor in what’s driving me to work so hard right now. I have hope in that this business will flourish. But it’s so painful when you feel the hope slip away. You’re left feeling emotions that are long in list and some indescribable; You’re left in your own tiny emotional hell.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
If it can be so bad, then why not just… not?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I’m not just talking about money, but I’m talking about my own desires. For greed can be for fulfillment of the soul as well as the coffer. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I want, even to the point I almost believe it’s a need, to run my own business. I know myself the best, and I know it’s how I operate the best.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I hate schedules and work assigned by others. I like to pick and choose what I do and don’t. I love websites, and I love the challenge of the infrastructure, illustration, and actual website development. If a client was to come to me and try to purchase my services, I would accept the job. However, if someone came to me and told me I *had* to accept their payment and make their website, I’d hate the process significantly more. I’ll work 60 hours and be happy so long as I get to choose when I do it. I’d hate every minute of a 40 hour job. I’d know too, because I’ve been working atleast<\/em> one since freshman year.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I know I could start my business after a few years in corporate, saving up money, and then going all-out once my business starts to accumulate a name and a few clients. It’s probably what will happen. But I’m impatient… I’m greedy. I want it now, and I’m willing to work 70 hours a week to make it happen… <\/p>\n\n\n\n Thank god my girlfriend, family, and friends understand and still love me, even if I choose to allocate my time towards the advancement of my business, instead of spending more quality time with them. I wish it was a more difficult decision to me, but I’m addicted to the dream at this point. I want it so bad.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Perhaps my self-confidence in myself, that I know I’m really effin’ awesome at making websites, is what will be my demise. I feel I offer great services at insane prices. Which is also part of what I think drives me to continue, this confidence in myself. Is it fuel, poison… or both?<\/p>\n\n\n\n Not knowing how this will end is driving me to the insane asylum, and registering me as a new intake. However, it’s also driving me to continue, to work harder than ever to make it work. I’m proud of how hard I’ve been working. It’s conflict, pain, and happiness here and there. A beautiful combination… as a result of not knowing.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Not knowing how good a new dish will taste; Not knowing if someone you’re about to meet will be a new addition to your life, or a new source of pain. Not knowing. I hate it. But it’s also… beautiful, in a way? The Coin The Fox Awaits I have started a small business, and … Continue reading The Beauty of Unknowing<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":11546,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-25","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.oregonstate.edu\/pichettl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/25","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.oregonstate.edu\/pichettl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.oregonstate.edu\/pichettl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.oregonstate.edu\/pichettl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/11546"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.oregonstate.edu\/pichettl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=25"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.oregonstate.edu\/pichettl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/25\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":26,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.oregonstate.edu\/pichettl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/25\/revisions\/26"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.oregonstate.edu\/pichettl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=25"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.oregonstate.edu\/pichettl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=25"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.oregonstate.edu\/pichettl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=25"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}Hubris<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
The Unknown Conclusion<\/h2>\n\n\n\n