In the town I grew up in, at one corner of a four-way intersection, stands an odd-shaped structure reminiscent of the all-purpose buildings that existed in colonial days. In the 1700’s, it served as a general store/pharmacy/post office. But in the 21st century, that building is filled with glass counters that display beaded jewelry and stone arrowheads and old-fashioned scales and other treasures made open to the public in the spring and summer seasons.

The interior is wide open with a second-story loft-like space that might have been an office in its previous incarnation, and now was a library of sorts. Manuscripts and cloth-bound books line the wooden shelves nailed to two of the three walls. A makeshift bench waits beneath the one multi-paned window.

My mother knew if I went missing, she could locate me in that confined space, surrounded by ancient elementary primers and almanacs and town history and holy books. Some days I could crack the window open to let in a delicate breeze, but most times the air was stagnant with mildew and dust and something sweet.

I spent hours sitting beneath that window carefully turning the pages of a town atlas and studying the outlines to plots of land or the path of forgotten railroad tracks or neighborhoods now covered by sand. The maps captured my imagination.

Across town on the former Main Street, the town hall and public library stand adjacent to one another. These structures aren’t as old as the museum and look completely different. They resemble miniature castles.

As a child, I thought the library was enormous…. and haunted. The main reading room boasts a grand stone fireplace and a spiral wrought-iron staircase leading to a whimsical attic filled with town depravities. Or so I thought.

While researching the war for independence for a social studies report, I’d imagine the day-to-day activities of a family who might have resided in the library when it was a mansion. I’d picture an entire meal – complete with dinner menu and topics of conversation – before reluctantly returning to the present.

You can’t imagine my disappointment when I finally learned that the stone building, complete with my beloved turrets, had been constructed to house the library and was never used for anything else.

So the size of the library diminished in proportion to my age, and by the time I was a senior in high school, I had graduated to the marble branch in the small city nearby.

This hushed haven suited me. One afternoon, while I strolled beneath soaring arches and explored many rooms, I wandered into a utopia. Low bookcases lined the small room, with framed maps covering the wood panel walls. At the center was a small wooden table surrounded by four green leather chairs.

My last year of high school, I’d study in this room surrounded by maps. It was my heaven.

And although I was often alone in this room, I never thought of stealing any of the maps. Then again, if I’d found any worth $700,000 I might have considered it.

The main reason I was missing in action from the blogosphere is because I was setting up my own shop.

I left the world of full-time gainful employment in November 2004 with enough money saved to carry me through May 2005.

The first couple weeks were heaven. I met with my designer, approved the logo and slogan, put the website online and planned a marketing campaign. I slept til noon, worked til 2:00 a.m., and was the envy of all my friends.

December was a flurry of meetings with well-meaning colleagues (all dispensing advice before scurrying back to their offices), aching wrists from hours of typing email announcements, and creative Christmas gift-giving.

January passed quickly. Almost 1,000 postcards were mailed to prospective clients announcing I was ready for business. The first week passed – but I figured people were still on vacation. The second week came and went. The third Sunday, I picked up the Washington Post and glanced at the job listings (just out of curiosity). The fourth week I got my first official client!

AND breathed a HUGE sigh of relief.

A mere 10 weeks later I have six clients and more work than I can handle. And having oh-so-much fun. AND am the envy of all my friends and family.

Last week I worked out of Denver, CO. My hours were a little screwy because I was up early handling East Coast clients at 6:00 a.m. mountain time – but I’m not complaining. Next week I’ll be working from Boston, Mass., and Lisbon, Portugal – talk about a screwy work schedule. In June, I’ll be open for business from New Orleans, LA. And in July, I’m planning a two-week Independence Day extravanganza in Newport, RI.

I’ve invested heavily in technology…. I started off with one clunky laptop and am now the proud owner of three ultra-portable, wireless, lite-weight machines. Am a huge fan of cruzer micro drives! Own two digital cameras. And a cellphone with international calling capabilities.

I am a sleek, mobile office. Need a PR campaign – I can work from anywhere and am available to work with you on-site.

So between the euphoria of actually leaving the predictable world of 9-5 life, to the rush of holiday madness, and the sudden crash of panic in January, to the crazed schedule that has become my new life – it was difficult to either find topics to blog about or the time.

I’m a bit more settled now and look forward to sharing my experience with others who are thinking of leaving the daily grind to strike out on a venture of their own.