1 your budget for the week: financial plan, forecast; accounts, statement.
2 a cut in the defense budget: allowance, allocation, quota; grant, award, funds, resources, capital.
The act of budgeting is customary to any new practice. At least I think it should be, because it is probably pretty important. Scribbling things on the backs of receipts or envelopes shouldn’t really be a businessy thing, but when you’re me it tends to be.
I knew what funds I had for start-up purposes, they would cover my initial expenses as I did some primary-school sums on the back of one of my mum’s letters. I came in on budget, more by miracle or divine intervention than wisdom. I inadvertently ‘invented’ this thing I now call guerilla budgeting, and as I discovered last night (on a toy packaging carton), it’s pretty rubbish.
I forecast that I needed £n to break even after all my expenses/overheads (which have all been listed on scraps of paper that were previously chewed by the printer). Then I worked out, at around 3am, that If I let the studio out for a hours a week, I would need to charge £x to make n. Got that? No, apparently neither did I because for the best part I severely undercut myself!
Last night I finally went back to my prodigious equation, I found that in fact x needed to be some 25% more, and that, without a significant number of weekly bookings at £x, I wouldn’t ever see a profit.
Fear not Fairybossmother fans, the figures have been adjusted, on my desk notepad which neatly sits under my keyboard. We have learned that while I may be in need of a good, but affordable accountant (as I have now spent my entire start-up budget), I am in fact really good at recycling.