Don’t call it a start-up

Today marks my 7-year anniversary at Tito. I’m not actually counting the days: this was pointed out by a colleague who got one of those LinkedIn notifications.


 Apparently 7 years ago I was also on LinkedIn.

Moving swiftly on, it happens to be Thanksgiving today. Not something we Europeans celebrate, but a bit of a coincidence, given the particular bout of warm fuzzies I’m feeling.

I also happen to be up the road in Belfast today attending a conference. Belfast is where I attended Build, my second ever design conference waaaay back in 2009. So many good times.

Nostalgia all the way today.

Anyway, back to Tito, we still get called a “start-up”. That really isn’t the case anymore. But I do feel there’s an automatic association between “small” and “young” companies.

No. We’ve been around for a while. We are small because we choose to be. Because we’re bootstrapped.

Fuck unicorns. Fuck exponential growth.

I want a company that can survive small. That is calm. That isn’t constantly chasing growth or an acquisition. I want Tito to be a model for other companies to look to and realise it doesn’t have to be the Silicon Valley way.

Here’s to another seven years.

A blog?

Yes. A blog. How quaint.

I recently came to a realisation—what drunks refer to as a moment of clarity © Jules Winnfield, 1994 —that I don’t have a good method of getting *waves hands* things out of my head these days. A situation mostly of my own making but it’s not great place to be.

Since moving to Ireland in 2010, my friend network is now distributed. And I’m bad at keeping in touch.

Since my eldest was born in 2015, my social life (quite rightly) has diminished.

Since my dad died in 2016, I no longer have that—albeit infrequent—outlet.

Since my youngest was born in 2017, myself and my wife seem to have even less time to talk.

My work colleagues are fab, but I feel opening up would be inappropriate.

The regular conference circuit I used to attend has mostly dried up, and traveling isn’t something I can easily do now that I have a young family.

Twitter isn’t what it used to be. More on that another time.

So I have excuses. But much in the same way as the Getting Things Done® approach encourages you to get your todos out of your head and onto something, I’m hoping this will be a therapeutic exercise of sorts.

Also I rarely write these days and I should really do more of it.