Um artigo aqui no blog para os meus amigos empreendedores, tantas vezes a minha referência e inspiração, e para os que não são mas um dia até poderão vir a ser. É um bocadinho isto que se passa quando se arrisca mudar de vida [eu identifico-me particularmente com a parte do sono]. Dá medo, dá. Mas, no fim, vai tudo correr bem.
A life packed in a suitcase. A consulting life where you miss out on everything and everyone in life, except Excel spreadsheets. A fancy business life we are taught to be ideal slaves of, at top business schools whose degrees we are proud to hold.
After few hours of sleep, the private driver was taking me to the Rome Fiumicino airport so I could take my fancy business-class flight to NYC. Upon arrival, I was checking in to a fancy five-star hotel and heading to my client’s office afterwards.
The salary? It was fancy, too. The company was proud to be among the top payers of the industry.
Parents.
There was something wrong with this consulting life, though. I couldn’t stand this bullsh*t any longer and one day I called my parents:
“Dad, mom, I just quit my job. I want to start my own startup.”
My mom almost had a heart attack. It wasn’t the first thing a perfectionist mother wanted to hear after encouraging me to graduate from the world’s top business schools with top grades.
I tried to ease her distress. No chance.
“Mom, I hate it. All these consultants are pretending to be happy and they are taking happiness pills. I get to sleep only 3–4 hours a day. All those benefits the company promised don’t exist. Remember the fancy five-star hotel? I am working almost 20 hours a day and I don’t even enjoy it. Fancy breakfast? We never have time to have that. Fancy lunch, dinner? It’s just a sandwich in front of our excel spreadsheets.