Today I had a meeting with a bank manager and opened my very own business account. It was a weird (but good) feeling, and it seemed like such an adult thing to be doing. Now, at 33, adult things should not come as a surprise to me. And yet…
Unlike everything else that’s happened since I left my museum job and struck out on my own, I suppose this step made the whole venture feel real in a very tangible way. I now have a business account, which means I now have a business. Trippy.
Next week I’ll be back to my regularly scheduled interpretation-related posts – the next one is a look at a company that’s shaking up the idea of what makes a museum experience, and I’m pretty excited about it.
But, for now, I’m off to draw up my first official invoice for RK Writes.