9-5/5-9?
Every morning, The alarm wins. The coffee brews, The laptop glows, ...and another day begins. Nine to five... Or five to nine. The clock has a funny way Of stretching when you're working, And sprinting when you're free. Monday arrives with confidence. Friday waves from a distance. The weekend finally knocks, Sits down for a cup of tea, And before you know it... It's already Sunday night. We call it a career. We call it stability. We call it being responsible. But somewhere between meetings, deadlines, and "just one last task," ...A quiet voice whispers, "What if I built something of my own?" Something where ideas Don't need approval. Where effort grows my dream, Not just someone else's. It's strange, isn't it? We're taught to study hard, Earn degrees, Collect experience, And become excellent At helping someone else build a business. Yet when someone says, "I'm starting my own," We raise our eyebrows As if chasing your o...