Beginning early in my career, I attended a lot of business mixers, first as a business journalist and then publishing a magazine. That was my first business, where my main role was selling advertising. I began to notice people then between professional roles would get simple business cards embossed with "consultant". I sensed a mix of hang out a shingle and wishful thinking. They were certainly open to income. And even simple conversations could lead to opportunities, whether anticipated or not. But mostly it seemed trying to paper over the hole in their resume. Many of them, for example, would focus more when speaking to a recruiter or others with job leads than with potential clients.
After I sold that company, I had some well-deserved time off—plus the funds to enjoy it. I knew the money wouldn't last and I was still in my twenties, so I still attended such mixers. I even enjoyed them more, knowing it wasn't work: I didn't have to sell: neither my product, nor myself. And I was much less likely to be sold to—especially after they asked for, and saw—my card.
Mine gave my title as "Ne'er-do-well"—my tongue and cheek way of showing I didn't want to play the "consultant" kabuki game.
Though I was being playful, I later saw it as an earlier attempt to make a commitment to unemployability.
See, when I was 20, I had my first “mid-life” crisis. That’s what I called it; this was long before “quarter-life crisis” came along. And it was typical of a crisis that hits middle aged men in particular: a crisis of identity. I was let go from the DC think tank I worked at. I thought I finally found my career….
Play kids do it first. Young mammals play so they can prey! or fight...
Employ whimsy.