A Journey Through the Woodshop: The Payroll Project and Wayland Custom Woodworking
So, there I was, coffee steaming in front of me, listening to the sound of my old table saw humming like a tired dog. A few years back, I decided to dive into woodworking—yes, the kind where sawdust clings to your jeans and catching a splinter is just part of the package. I thought I’d merge my love for the craft with a little side project I dreamed up called Wayland Custom Woodworking. Naturally, payroll became a whole saga of its own, but hey, when you dive into something, you expect to take a few waves along the way, right?
The Big Idea
It all started with a chat over a beer at the local bar. My buddy Charlie had just commissioned me to build him a little bookshelf for his daughter’s room. You know, one of those pieces that you don’t just buy from some big-box store, but something unique—something that says, "I care enough to make this myself." So we clinked our glasses and made a plan. As I was cutting up some gorgeous cherry wood—oh man, the rich smell of it was intoxicating—I thought, “If I can do this for Charlie, why not open it up to others in town?”
I took a quick sip of that lukewarm coffee, remembering how naive I was back then. “Just build some stuff,” I thought. “How hard can it be?” Spoiler alert: it got a lot more complicated.
The Reality Check
Once I started, it felt like a snowball gaining momentum. I built a neck for another local artist who requested an elaborate display for their pottery. Folks started coming out of the woodwork, no pun intended, asking for custom pieces. I felt like a kid in a candy store until I realized I had to keep track of who owed me what and how much I could afford to spend on more tools. Enter: my first attempt at payroll.
Now, I didn’t have a clue what I was getting into. I had a simple Excel spreadsheet—my trusty old friend from college—and thought, "This will do!" But boy, was I in for a ride. It took maybe two weeks before I realized my expenses were way out of whack. I ended up spending more on that fancy mahogany for a dining table than I’d originally planned. The smell of that wood as I sanded it down was divine, but watching my budget bloat made me feel nauseous. So, I sat down and thought, “Okay, Dan, this isn’t just a hobby anymore.”
Learning Curve
Cue the head-scratching and some not-so-great moments. One night, I was deep in the zone, working on this beautiful walnut nightstand, when inspiration suddenly struck for a better design. I almost gave up on the original idea—what was I thinking? But then I remembered a trick I’d learned from a YouTube video about draws and measurements. I took a deep breath and, despite the late hour, went back to the drawing board. That’s the thing about woodworking; it will kick you when you’re down if you let it. But that night? I closed my eyes and imagined the piece in my head, as clear as a bell. Funny enough, when I actually made that change, it turned out better than I could’ve ever anticipated!
But let me tell you, keeping up with billing? That is a whole different beast. I tried software that left me more confused than relieved. I’ll never forget sitting there cursing at that screen, wondering why I didn’t just start a lemonade stand. “Should I just go back to my nine-to-five?” I thought, feeling the weight of it all. But every time I’d see someone light up when they saw the piece I’d made, I would be reminded of why I kept going.
The Sliding Scale of Success
By now, I had my cycle down. I don’t mean to brag, but my order book started filling up like a kid’s birthday cake being piled high with frosting. I realized I had to come up with a better way to keep track of everything—my expenses, my project lists, even how I managed invoices. Ah, the beauty of small victories! I finally found a payroll app that was straightforward enough that even I could figure it out. It felt like discovering gold at the end of a long, dusty road.
But with success comes the challenge of growth. I started filling orders faster than I could source wood. Oh, and when you hear an old woodworker say sourcing is an art, believe me, they mean it. I learned to scent the difference between pine and cedar—it’s surprising how fragrant cedar can be.
One late evening, I went to grab some lumber from a local supplier. The coolness of the air mixed with the scent of fresh-cut wood gave me chills. The guy behind the counter let me in on a little secret about negotiating for better pricing if I could buy in bulk, and I practically skipped out the door. Yet another lesson tucked away under my tool belt!
Take it Easy
Here’s the soft landing I want to offer you. If you’re contemplating jumping into something—anything, really—take it slow but take that leap. Don’t be scared of the bumps along the way. They’ll teach you more than any guide could. I almost threw in the towel multiple times while figuring out the payroll, but that journey transformed what was just a side project into a burgeoning business.
So, if you’re in your garage right now, maybe nursing a cup of coffee and thinking about launching into custom work—whether it’s woodworking or whatever else fuels your fire—just dive in, will ya? Don’t sweat the small stuff too much. It’s all part of the process. Trust me, those wood shavings will sprinkle memories—and lessons—into your life that will stick with you long after the last piece of excited wood whittling is done.
Take heart, keep hammering, and let the sawsing and sanding of life teach you and fill your soul with as much virtue and wood shavings as you can muster.
