Yesterday, I had the misfortune to have a set of keys nicked from my postbox. An out-of-hours locksmith hurried over to replace 3 locks, resulting in myself and my housemates dishing out seventeen new keys amongst ourselves and our neighbours.
The police came round to take an official report that evening. I feel shifty and uncomfortable around the police at the best of times, so my smile was particularly rictus as they sat opposite me at my kitchen table taking me through the paperwork. We were speeding through the list nicely until we came to the question:
What's your profession?
I won't offer an agonising blow by blow account of what came next. Suffice to say that (much to the glee of my friends) I floundered, stuttering about being an 'entrepreneur', and an 'owner of a start up... no, no a social enterprise'. Eventually the kind policeman offered me an olive branch, writing down 'self employed', and making a swift exit.
It is a tricky one. Katie and I spent a good hour trying to work out what our official titles should be. We tried Executive Director, CEO, and even thought about splitting roles out between us. But the idea of labelling myself a COO before we've even launched a pilot felt like massively over-blown, chest-puffing bravado. We settled on Co-Founder, which I think is just perfect.
Nonetheless, Katie and I have a new nickname at my house; the 'social architects'.
Oh, the shame.