the Monday Musings column from that consultant bloke

It’s coming up on fifteen years since I went freelance. I had been thinking about it for five years, having, in 2002, been looking at redundancy. The Berkshire Belle was in the same boat and so we had set up a limited company through which we could trade. As things worked out we both kept our full time employment, but then, for me, came a decision point in 2008.

It was time for my annual review, and I was heading up to London to meet my boss for lunch at the Institute of Directors. When I set out for the station that morning I had no thoughts about what the day might bring. Annual reviews were a chore that you went through and it was, in effect, a day off for me. A mid-morning train ride into Paddington, a decent lunch with a glass of wine and then back home to Swindon. I didn’t take my laptop or even a briefcase. The sun was shining on that early March morning and I was enjoying a day out.

From Paddington I used the Bakerloo line to Charing Cross and walked the half mile or so to the IoD. Meeting my boss there, he was using it as a base for several meetings that day, we had a brief chat and went in to eat. Things went well, and whilst it had not been a great year in terms of one area of work, the reasons for that were well understood and, in other areas I had done well. My bonus for the year was very acceptable and all that remained was to talk about the year ahead.

For each of the previous three years I had been, as they put it, parachuted into a different business division. I worked was a sort of non-executive member of the management team with no direct authority, but in an advisory capacity. In general my temporary colleagues viewed me as an unnecessary addition and I was made as welcome as the ex-boyfriend at the wedding, but there had been some progress and I had learned a lot. But what next?

In each of my previous cuckoo roles I had been able to work from home with the occasional overnight stay, but for 2008/09 they wanted me to work with a division based in Leeds and it was obvious that I would have to stay up there. I liked Leeds a lot, but to have to effectively live up there for a year was not something that I wanted to do. There was an option to find me a flat so that I didn’t have to stay in hotels, but I really wasn’t interested. I knew that to refuse the job meant that I was resigning, and suddenly that seemed the best choice.

We had a telephone conversation with the Personnel Director and a package was agreed. I handed in my mobile ‘phone on the spot, promised to take my laptop into the Birmingham office the next day and was on immediate gardening leave until the end of the month when Leaseplan would come and take away the Audi. I would get three months pay in lieu of notice and would formally leave the company at the end of March.

I left the IoD to walk back to the tube and, as I crossed Trafalgar Square, I was ten feet off the ground. I had not realised what a weight the job had become and freedom was exhilarating. Yes, the times ahead were uncertain, but I was going t go it alone. Every ‘phone call or email could bring a new adventure.

There were a lot of lows, more than there were highs, but I got to work in all sorts of places including Ireland, Columbia, Libya, Thailand and, twice, in China. I worked with companies from SMEs to global businesses with various governments in between and, apart from a couple of rogues, always got paid.

One thing did not change once I gave up the fat salary, private health care and flash car and that was the work ethic. Being your own boss is one thing, but if you don’t work you don’t get paid and the more that you work the more you earn. It is not an easy option, but you stand or fall on your own; own decisions, own quality of work, your own merits. There is no safety net.