(It could have destroyed my marriage.)
I run a small, lean digital marketing agency in Cape Town. We probably won’t be the next Vayner Media or Snapchat but we work our asses off and even though we might be insignificant in scale we’re furiously ambitious. By we, I mean me and my husband. We live together, eat together and work together and it works for us, most of the time.
Danger hit late last year with a new client. Looking back, I should have seen the warning signs but like any new, hungry startup you almost ignore them on purpose when you see potential $$$ on the horizon. Because rent.
The amount of work I did in no way lined up to the $$$ earned. The expectations were ludicrous and I found myself completely burned out after only three weeks on the account. It didn’t help that I was getting blamed for app bugs and stuff that were completely out of my control and not part of my agency mandate. During these three weeks I not only fought with my client, but I took everything out on my poor husband.
There were less cuddles.
There was less laughter.
There were too many tears.
I fired the client, it didn’t feel good then but it had to happen. I took some Urbanol for the stress and eventually started feeling like a normal human being again.
And you know what, we paid rent anyway.
I’ve learned to trust my gut a little more and I appreciated her skepticism. It didn’t save me then, but I survived. I promise to pay more attention to her in the future.
This was a life lesson of all life lessons. And my husband deserves the medal of all medals.