A Little Bit Of Elbow Grease Would Be Needed First

The conversation was going quite well. The mood set by the ambiance of the restaurant helped, what with the dim but not so dim as to be annoying lights, the soft, easy listening music (though, again, not so easy listening as to be annoying), and in particular, the generous spacing between tables that allowed for conversations to be somewhat private.

"I've always read that people who own their own businesses are pretty much married to them - on the job, morning, noon, and night." As he said this to her she took a small sip on the fantastic wine the waiter had recommended and looked over the top of her glass straight at him. She liked his eyes.

"Is that true?" He added as she put her glass down.

"Well, yes, it was, early on, for the first year and half, maybe two years." She replied in a reflective tone. "But as the business grew and I was able to hire more people, specifically people I could trust, I was able to make my schedule as normal as most - I rarely work more than 45 to 50 hours a week now, and am able to take long weekends and even short vacations when I want."

He nodded his head as he listened, then said with an amused smile, "Well, that's great - it's refreshing to learn that not all self-employed people are work-aholics!"

She laughed a little along with him before speaking again. "I didn't get into business for myself because I liked to work - on the contrary, I got into business for myself because I absolutely did not like to work - at least not work as I was when I was working for other people."

"Oh?," he said, "Was it the job you didn't like or was it the people you had to work for that you didn't like?"

"Pretty much both," she said, rolling her eyes to emphasize the statement. "I was working at jobs that paid my bills for people that I got along with but definitely didn't want to work for. Then one day I was watching some afternoon talk show, and for the millionth or so time the guest was one of those motivational speakers who constantly proclaimed that a person should do what they love and success will surely follow. I'd heard that message countless times but had never given it much weight, but that day, that afternoon, for whatever reason, it hit me in the stomach like a wrecking ball. Right then and there I decided I was going to do what I loved to do for a living."

"And that was owning your own business?"

Her expression went from light-hearted to serious in a nano-second, and she continued. "I went into the cleaning business. I sat down at my computer and researched a few cleaning services to figure out what I should charge, and then I created a flyer that advertised my services. I posted those flyers on the bulletin board near the mailboxes in my apartment building's lobby, and by the end of the first week I had five cleaning jobs. Within a month I was having to turn away business, which was when I dragged my younger sister into the business with me, and then it really took off."

"Wow. Why did you chose a cleaning service as a business?'

"Because," she said, clearing her throat with an almost unheard cough, "I love to clean. I seriously love to clean, and I pretty much despise clutter. Cleaning and organizing and getting rid of junk for people makes me unbelievably happy. You know that aisle in supermarkets where all the cleaning supplies are stocked? The Pine-Sol and Simple Green and Ajax? Whenever I go shopping, whether I need any cleaning supplies or not, I walk down that aisle, slowly, breathing in deeply the various scents... the smells of...clean. It almost gets me high, I swear. There is just something so, so right about cleaning and decluttering and making everything shiny and bright."

He sat across from her trying to maintain his best poker face. A million thoughts raced through his mind. The most insistent thought other than just "Wow," was, "Well, it doesn't look like I'll be inviting her back to my place anytime soon..."