The decision of an entrepreneur

Sometimes, if I may say so myself, I am really proud of myself for making good decisions. I do not know why I am so lucky and many a time, I tell people that my late Mom is helping me in all my luck; but I forget that even before Mom passed away, I was still lucky as hell. And I will always remember the day Mark Davies of Regus said to me when my numbers were so good and I claimed luck on my side, “You make your own luck, Patsy.” That gave me the confidence to do more. 

We’ve just spent 2 glorious weeks in London, just me and my girls, and had the most wonderful time. I spoilt them rotten and we did everything together just us three girls. We watched musicals, we played at the park, we went to playgrounds, we visited friends, we went to all the kid activities in London, we visited tourist sites, we chilled together doing nothing. It was FANTASTIC. Oh, and yes, of course we went shopping. Not me but me for the girls. I bought them ice-cream daily and bought them anything they wanted from Hamley’s and Waterstones and everywhere else. So of course we racked up quite a bit on the credit card even though we told Daddy that we wouldn’t be shopping. We brought GBP1,500 with us but ended up spending more because London sucks you by taking great photos of you without you knowing and then sell them to you at exorbitant rates. WTF. We got suckered every single time. 
Thus VAT refunds were top priority for me when we left for home. Wait. Where is home now, London or KL? Because VAT was 17% wasn’t it? And after all our shopping, 4 figures back would have been quite nice indeed but WTF when we went to the VAT queue, there was the whole of China and India ahead of us. I discussed with my elder daughter if this was worth the wait. 40 minutes the VAT porter said. T1, bless her heart, said Mommy…..with this money, we could have a few meals. After waiting in queue for 10 minutes, I decided fuck it. Let’s go. We kissed our VAT refund goodbye. 

Our next big decision was whether or not to upgrade ourselves to Business upon arrival in London due to our shit flight from KL to London where the whole of China and India were on the plane as well. I had asked the Hubs earlier if he minded us upgrading and at that point, the Hotel staff had said RM19,xxx to upgrade as it was a last minute exercise. I argued that their seats were empty ANYWAY. And if I had been a little more organised, I could have bid for 3 Business seats and gotten it much cheaper. The Hubs had said to go for it to maintain my sanity. He knows how impatient I am and how I have earned my right to demand quality from everyone because till today, I still know nobody who works harder than I do. Not something to be proud of but well, you know, I have earned my place in this world. I really have. I deserve everything that I have right now because I have worked my ass off for it. 

Another thing we discussed with the Hubs was whether we should get a new suitcase because we were overloaded. He asked what happened to no shopping in London but who can resist. He was genius enough to solve our problems at the 11th hour and this is why I married the man that he is. At the airport, the kids and I discussed if we should upgrade to Business because by then, they considered it a super LAST MINUTE ENTRY and the price was even more. WTF. It was literally 2 hours before departure when we decided that we would upgrade our flight so we could all get a good night’s sleep and be comfortable. There is just so much more space in Business and I really cannot do Economy anymore if I could help it. I don’t want to be snooty but I like my comfort. T1 and I rationalised that if I earned double that in a week, then it would be OK to upgrade our flight to Business because by the next 7 days, I would have made more than enough of it back. The power of a network marketing business. 

And what a glorious flight it was!!! It was almost like my Mom had pushed us to that decision because over the last few days, we had taken so long to justify ourselves traveling on Business yet. On flight, I met 2 Doctors who were both older than me traveling separately but seated behind us. One was a stem cell expert and one dealt with neurosurgery. I learnt about the inside road of the medical field, how it was shit and bull, and how amino acids were the next big thing. These were businessmen. They were traveling the world giving talks at medical conferences and were experts in their field. And from talking to them, they confirmed that Doctors were businessmen who didn’t care so much (according to them anyway) about our health really, but more about making money. Really. There was big, big money to be made. Internationally. The stem cell guy was 62 and had 2 sons who were also Doctors, sharp and funny British Indian guy. The other guy was English and also very witty. I had a great time and my daughters probably thought I was flirting with some strange old uncles. 

The taxi ride was wonderful too. Despite my promise of not giving any cash out this year (what a joke), and I am really trying hard to practise this and failing quite miserably, I gave the Taxi man who was from Algeria GBP100. He was shocked and said wow! That’s a big tip! And I said it’s for the education that you offered to us about the history of Algeria which he did spend the entire journey sharing with us. I thought it was fascinating. And since I learnt from Mr Oberoi of the world class hotel chain that we should always keep ahead of ourselves by learning something new every single day, what the taxi driver taught me was invaluable. I am grateful that way. And when I am grateful, I tend to give. 
My girls are proud of their mother. I know it. The small one may not understand so much yet but I know they are both very proud of me that I work and I earn and I am well respected because as simple as I may be being able to relate to the old uneducated aunty or the guy who takes out the trash, I am also able to converse and argue with oncologists and investment analysts who are bullshitters in my opinion. Oh, and of late, I have been arguing quite a bit with a Cambridge educationist about some technical jargon. It’s all bullshit. I am so proud of my Mom who showed me that we could all be as clever as hell but not everyone has a kind heart. Like a really genuine heart. And to all the fuckers who are obnoxiously intelligent, they mean nothing in my world. Seriously. Until they can give with a sincere heart, they are just another cattle of rats. The irony. 
So a good friend of mine cheered me up big time when I was in London by sending me all these quotes which were so relevant in my life. They were:

Hustle until your haters ask if you’re hiring. Take note FAR far. 

Please don’t mind me if my hustle offends the shit out of you. I do apologise. 

Don’t get mad when I pull a you on you. In fact I have done a better version of you. Try fucking with me again? 

Queens do not compete with hoes. Oh, how I love this! 

Not everyone likes me but then again, not everyone matters. 

The above was just PERFECT to complement my bitchy PMS state in London which I actually had an easy time with this month due to the Young Living PPP oil I bought recently from a friend. It worked. That is good enough for me.

Just don’t fuck with me. I am so kind until you pull a nasty and once you do, you will never get me back. It’s just how I roll. You would have to be a bigger person to win back an even bigger heart. I am confident like that. 
My biggest challenge right now is dealing with the tax man. I gave so much money away last year that I never got any receipts for because how would you ask a single mom for a receipt for cash that you give her right? Nor did I imagine that I would have to pay a few hundred thousand in tax. It freaked me out initially but WTF, I will just pay it. We all live and learn. When one door closes, several new doors open. They always have and always will. My Muslim friend said that all these haters coming into my life was actually a blessing because whilst people hate, humans would disappoint but God will not. 

Thank you for the loveliest and most incredible time of memories made in London, Universe/ God/whoever made it possible. The 3 of you up there in Heaven protecting me and the 3 of you down here who love me, thank you. 

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