1 Apr 2010
Recently I’ve been working on a project where I’ve had to commute to Birmingham Business Park and work in the client’s office. Nice project, but it’s made me realise just how much I love working at home.
- I have a brilliant office. Set of double monitors on an adjustable arm (I hate using visual studio on a laptop screen), desk and chair are at the right height, everything I need is to hand. Also it’s just such a nice space.
- Great coffee. I’m a coffee snob and I detest and despise instant coffee and vending machine coffee and starbucks coffee.
- No commute. Every morning for the past few weeks I’ve been faced with the choice between roadworks and speed-cameras or the motorway. At home my office is next door to bedroom and if I get dressed it’s because I want to, not because I have to.
- I’m the boss. My hours. My clients. My projects.
- If I get bored I can just go and annoy the grumpy office cat.
My desk. There’s also a nice view from the window.
It’s obviously late ‘cos I’ve been drinking tea.
And this is the rest of my office. The pictures on the wall are some really nice technical drawings of steam engine indicators, and a rivitting machine
And I’m just doing my end-of-year accounts (my company year ends in March) and I’ve realised that I’ve now been working for myself for four years. Unbelievable. I had to go check my old speadsheets to see if I’d counted the years right. But yep, first invoice sent March 2006.