Behind the scenes update: Life on crutches at Pomegranite
The nice thing about working for yourself – and being able to work from home – is that, when the doctor says: “I’m afraid the answer is surgery,” at least you don’t have to worry about bringing it up with your boss to arrange time off work. Because work can be done from bed. On painkillers. And your boss – well, she’s you.
While you aren’t thrilled at the prospect of crutches for another six weeks, you know that there will at least be morphine in your near future. And sympathy. And who doesn’t like morphine and sympathy? Exactly.
Also – you know that your business partner will be there to take the reins where necessary. You can call her from the hospital bed when clients get hold of you and pass meetings on to her. When you escape are discharged, she will spend the afternoon working next to you so that you feel like you’re contributing, while, gently high on painkillers, you gaze out the window and ask very helpful questions like: “Is today Wednesday?”
When concerned clients enquire after you, she will stoically reply: “Oh don’t worry. She’s still high in bed.”
A couple days later, when you are trying to get your head back in the work game, weaning yourself off the good drugs, she will tease you sweetly, with enquiries like: “Do you think we could apply for a disability grant on the days that you’re feeling mentally challenged?”
In much the same way that men sometimes get sympathy pains when their wives are in labour, your business partner will gallantly throw herself off a bike on the Seapoint promenade, causing an impressive roastie. Just to make you feel better about the screw artfully inserted into your ankle by the surgeon.
And I’m sure, as the weeks go by, I can expect glowing compliments on the impressive guns that I’m developing, while my calf loses all definition, shrinking elegantly to the size of my arm.
When they advise you on the kind of person you should choose to go into business with, you don’t often hear advice on what to look for in a partner should you have ankle surgery twice. But they should. Because it’s times like these – when you’re making tea in a gym water bottle just so you can carry it to your desk in your teeth – that you realise just how important it is to be able to say to that person: “Please take over.” And you know that she will. And that she won’t mind. And that she’ll do a great job. And that, in the end, the only thing that will matter is that you can blow her away with your skills on crutches.
And, let’s be honest, isn’t that a quality you look for in an online presence consultancy – crutch competency? Yip. We have it at Pomegranite. In SPADES.