For the last eight - nearly nine - years, I've been self-employed. It wasn't really something I chose: I never had a great desire to run my own business or be my own boss - working freelance was just the quickest way of getting myself working again after finding my role in a large insurance company suddenly made redundant.
Much to my surprise, I made a go of it. In fact, for nine years I was able to feed and clothe myself, pay for holidays and pay my rent and various other bills which, when you consider what the economy has been like for the last few years, is quite an achievement. I even managed to find some clients of my own, rather than solely relying on other companies to put work my way.
Working freelance tends involve feast or famine: you're either fantastically busy or wandering around the house in your underpants, looking for something to do. In the past, that freedom has allowed me to study and get my degree, as well as enjoying a lot of time off and giving me to freedom to spend time in the holidays with Little 'Un.
When I moved across to Hong Kong, the business model was fundamentally the same. I had to be a bit more official about it - registering my own company (bizarrely, I'm actually a director now) rather than working, as I had in the UK, as a sole trader, but it was pretty much the same - periods of crazy business followed by longer periods of sitting around.
But all things must change. The attraction of sitting around has begun to pall. The days have started to drag. I'm starting to feel... bored. I have things to do but there are so few of them on my list that I'm not really interested in doing them. It's one of those odd things about life: when there's no time, there's loads to do - when there's loads of time, suddenly I can't be bothered to do anything.
And so, after the best part of a decade of being my own boss, of working from home, of taking days off whenever I like, of deciding not to bother doing anything when I wake up in the morning, it's all coming to an end. I am joining the ranks of the gainfully employed and accepting a job.
Of course, I'm excited about it: it's a great opportunity and a chance to do something slightly different. It also adds some much needed security, knowing that the money will be coming in regularly each month. But as well as being excited, I also feel nervous and a bit sick; I'm getting that slightly sickly trapped feeling that I get when the MTR stops in the tunnel.
For the first time in nearly a decade I have to get up every morning and go into an office, which is going to be a little bit painful for a while. I don't expect anyone to feel sorry for me about this - I know that most people do it - it's just another change that 2012 has brought. I've been fantastically lucky over my time in self employment and, who knows, maybe I'll go back to it one day although I enjoyed the lifestyle far more than actually running my own business. If only I could find a way of being paid to do nothing. I must dig out that half-finished novel...
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