That moment of abject panic. Like looking up at a clock reading 1:20, and suddenly thinking: was that teleseminar at 2:00 or omigod, 1:00? (It was 2)
The hour of crisis. Like having all four of your websites crash, actually moved to somebody else’s sites, all your traffic re-routed – with $50,000.00 of print ads out there. The resolution – it was accident, fixed in under 3 hours.
The disappointment. Like the loss of a client, account, customer for whom you bent over backwards, made huge gobs of money for, have glowing testimonials from. Or the long trusted employee caught sabotaging your sales or outright stealing. Or the ad you labored endlessly over, that you think is brilliant, that tanks.
The loneliness. Of having no one who can understand either your stresses or your successes. Or that very, very difficult decision to which there is only one sane answer albeit one certain to be unpopular and misunderstood. (Nobody really gets what this is all about unless they live it. In an issue of INC., there’s an article by a woman who worked for INC. for years, wrote about entrepreneurs, has a business degree, etc. who admits discovering – when her husband launched a business – that everything she thought she knew was wrong; that the real entrepreneurial experience was completely different from what she’d perceived as an observer and reporter. Yep.)
The hardest task. Managing yourself. The temptation to procrastinate, to goof off, to sleep in, to avoid whatever unpleasant work is staring at you from the corner of the room. The need for self-discipline and self-motivation.
The work. The typical entrepreneur does the work of ten salaried employees. If he doesn’t, he’s going to be in trouble. (It is why you damned well do deserve high pay and wealth and perks and luxuries far greater than those of 9-5 employees.)
The secret no one can ever know – that you’re just guessing.