I realize that starting a business is technically NOT considered operating outside the box. Probably more like creating another box, really. My box is going to have to fit somewhere inside of or at least next to other boxes already in existence.
But I’ve never had a box before. I feel like a toddler who, upon opening an awesome new present, only wants to play with the box. Mostly because there isn’t much inside my box right now, there’s pretty much only the cardboard walls and a couple of flaps to twiddle with at this point.
What happened was, I went to the local rec center to propose a Spanish conversation class, and the director loved the idea. He gave me an instructor application which I brought home and proceeded to fill out.
Turns out I need a license from the city.
So okay, I look up “business privilege license” on the web (“privilege:” presumably they don’t want you to forget that earning a living is not a right) and get to the appropriate form which I download and print. I dutifully begin to fill in the blanks on that form.
Turns out I need something called a “Federal Tax ID,” which I again look up online and am directed to the IRS site on which one may get an “Employer Identification Number,” which is essentially starting a new business and getting the little number that you will put on your tax return.
The really cool part about all this is that it was fun. I’m learning that I know when I’m on the right track when my enthusiasm mounts rather than dwindles as I encounter twists in the road. Instead of sobbing hysterically and wailing “Why meeeeee?” in my most pathetic voice, which is my M.O. when ambushed by red tape, I was getting jazzed. My own business, huh? Pick out a name, pick out some goals, allow your inspiration to coalesce around a box, inside which you can put your brilliant ideas, then your efforts, and maybe someday your accomplishments?
Yeah, alright. Let’s do it.
It’s still only in the embryonic stage. If I showed you the ultrasound it wouldn’t even look like a box, it would just be a lump in the form of a tax identification number stuck to a dream.
But someday maybe it will be a lovely strong box, oak, perhaps stained a warm brown in homage to the cups of coffee that inspired it, with forest green trim, and it will have little ribbons connecting outward to tutoring clients and language classes, to translation jobs and writing projects, and it will be bubbling happily with words.
That’s the plan, anyhow.
I’ll keep you posted.