I leave the house every morning with with a list printed off of the half-broken printer in my room at my mother's house. The list consists of offices I've never been to or heard of, who've never heard of or met me, offices which I snag off some database created by a bunch of people desperate for jobs, running around the city jotting down names and numbers. The net worth of my list is approximately the 1 cent it cost for the ink and the paper it's printed on. But then I get into my car, and out of my car, and into that office, and out of that office. I drive, I walk, I talk, I talk, and I talk.
It's 6p.m. and I'm stuck in traffic on the 5 from Southgate to Santa Clarita. I have a pocket full of business cards of people I now know, and who now know me. Altogether, the business they represent could mean over $100,000 for me this year. It's not about the money. It's about taking an idea, a 1 cent piece of paper, a whole lotta hard work, and creating something of value from all of that nothingness.
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