From Cubicle Slave to the Next Internet Millionaire

Wow — I can’t believe how society is instilled with such a false sense of security from permanent-nine-to-five-work-for-someone-else work.

I wonder why that is?

What does permanent work offer us? Obviously, as people, we don’t do something unless we get something out of it. So what could that something be? What’s our reward for going into a job that we’re not excited to do? Not proud to be a part of? That’s not making us rich?

The main answer screaming out at me is: security. It’s a nasty eight-letter word. And it’s very paralyzing.

When we work for someone else, we receive steady, usually biweekly, paycheques. We can go to work, tired, bored… even drunk (not that I’m saying you should go into work drunk). And we still get paid!

We base our lives around that regular sum of money that gets automatically deposited into our bank accounts. Our lifestyles depend on it. How and where we live, what we eat, how we dress, where we dine, whether we drink bottled water from glass jars or tap water — it’s all based on income — income that we earn from working at our steady job. Knowing what amount of money is coming in is a huge comfort. No stress, just Yup, there it is, Oh yeah, it’s two weeks later, there it is, and again, and again, and again.

We also know that should something ever happen to our job, we have security. In Canada, we have UI (unemployment insurance). This can be collected bi-weekly and is a certain percentage of your previous income. We get this payout because while we work for our J.O.B.S. (Just Our Bloody Station in life), we pay into the fund. Entrepreneurs might look at this payout as a ridiculous waste of money, but job-ers love the security blanket.

Health insurance and benefits are another perk of having a job. Again, the safety net of knowing that if you get a cavity, your dentist visit should be covered by your insurance. If you get sick, your prescriptions should be covered. If you need to take long-term leave because of illness, you’re covered.

All good benefits for sure, but what are the repercussions?

First off, the majority of people who work in their safe little nine-to-five jobs are unhappy. Being miserable at your job causes undue stress to your mind and body. Therefore, you get sick more often and have to use those safe little benefits more often. It makes you feel like you need them, that you’ll be screwed without them. What a Catch-22.

Also, the majority of people want to take pride in their work, but working your butt off for joe-company doesn’t make you feel proud. Working for anybody who tells you what you can and can’t do isn’t something that builds pride. Being proud of what I’m doing is so important for me. I love to get lost in projects — live, eat, and breathe what I’m doing. But I get so mad when I do that only to have the rug pulled out from under me later on. If you’re your own boss, you can take pride in what you’re doing, congratulate yourself on your success, and never beat yourself up just because you’re having a bad day.

Make money for yourself. Why slave away to make a ton for somebody else while they pay you a measly salary? Even if the salary they pay you is great (you know it’s still measly in comparison to what you’re making them) — if you’re not happy, get out.

Figure out what you want to do, make a plan… AND GET OUT.

I know these are bold statements. But I’m going to share my knowledge with you on how I got myself out of my nine-to-five, work-for-somebody-else situation…how I GOT OUT.

I first heard about The Next Internet Millionaire reality show from my dad, Cal Luchuck. My dad is an amazing man. He grew in up Winnipeg, Manitoba, number three of seven children. His family didn’t have very much money growing up. They lived in the North End, the wrong side of the tracks. But that was ages ago. Now he’s fifty-five years old, owns his own boutique advertising agency, and in the past year has started learning about Internet marketing. Not many people can use Photoshop, speak well enough to have other salesmen claim they could sell ice to Eskimos (to use an old Canadian saying), and change the oil in a car. Very multi-faceted. He and my mom, Shelley, got involved with Peaks Potential, a company focussed on growing and developing your millionaire mind. Then they tried StomperNet, a subscription-based Internet marketing training company, and finally, they joined Joel Comm’s coaching club.

My mom is a great lady, but she’s not a natural born entrepreneur. My mom’s family is very Catholic and very diverse. She is the oldest of nine children. Some of them were born with the entrepreneurial bug. Others, like my mom, were not. But that doesn’t mean she’s not into self-development, though. At the age of fifty (she’s now fifty-three), she went back to school and studied Production Accounting. She graduated this past spring and is now working for an oil and gas company in Calgary… and doing her website homework in the evenings.

I guess, before I go too much further, I should give you a brief introduction to me. If you watched the Next Internet Millionaire show, you might have a small clue. But you only got to see what the producers and editors decided to show you. And they only got to see what I decided to allow on camera. So, you don’t really know me. Yet.

I’m the oldest of four children. My parents, whom you’ve already met, married young. They both grew up in Winnipeg, a city commonly known as Winter-peg for its extremely cold and vicious winters. Winnipeg is also a city black with mosquitoes in the summer months. My parents met while working at an A&W and got married only nine months after their first date — true love. And they’re still together thirty-two years later — and still very much in love. They hug and kiss all the time and my dad rubs my mom’s head every night when they watch TV.

They were young when they got married. My dad was barely twenty-three and my mom, twenty. Just before they had me, they moved to Regina, Saskatchewan (also known for frigid winters — what’s up with that? Couldn’t they have moved to Florida?). I was born at the end of November on Grey Cup Day. The Grey Cup is the Canadian Football League’s Super Bowl. Fun for my dad, I’m sure, to have his wife in labor during the big game. Although I like to think I was worth it.

Anyway, to make a long story short (for now), my parents completed our family with Ryan, Stacey and Travis. There’s eight years between me and Travis. My parents seem to have the formula down. We’re girl, boy, girl, boy. And we’re all exactly three years apart in school. Now that I think like an Internet marketer, I’m thinking they should write an eBook about that and sell it. They’d make millions!

Now, back to the auditions.

One day, I got a phone call from my dad (my parents live across the country from me in Calgary, Alberta — for you Americans, if you don’t know, that’s like New York City to Spokane). He had received an email from Joel Comm about the upcoming show. Being a member of the coaching club, he got regular emails from Joel.

He sounded so excited about it — he told me he was going to audition and he thought I should too. To audition, you had to create a two-minute video with only you in it, talking about why you should be on the show.

I grimaced. Seriously, I did. I don’t think so, Dad, was my reply.

He desperately wanted me to audition. I wasn’t trying to be stubborn, I just didn’t want to. Why? Because I don’t do reality TV. And that was true. I don’t watch American Idol. I don’t watch The Apprentice. I have never watched Survivor or The Amazing Race. I do have to admit, however, that I have watched an episode or two (or twelve) of America’s Next Top Model. But still, usually, reality shows are ridiculous. They’re about people trying to get famous. People who will do anything to get famous. And that’s just not me.

Ever since I was a little girl, I always wanted to be an actress. I tried for a few years too. Did some independent movies. But I always said that I would turn down a role or a commercial that would make me look like an ass. And I stick by that… I would.

So, that said. I had no interest in Joel Comm’s little reality TV show. None whatsoever.

But my dad was persistent. He kept asking me video production questions since he had never put together a video and he kept trying relentlessly to coerce me into putting one in too. We can do a father/daughter thing, it’ll be so great!

No Dad!

Then he tried a different tactic. He told me he had decided he wasn’t going to put in an audition — that he didn’t have the confidence he would get anywhere with it. He didn’t really know how to make a video and he was really too busy.

He sounded awful, dejected, and my heart broke. I could tell he really wanted this — for us to do this together. So I weighed my options… sure it was a reality show, but it was only on the Internet. Seriously, how many people would watch it? I was pretty sure the numbers would be minimal and, if I didn’t tell anyone, I wouldn’t be embarrassed in front of my friends.

And what were the chances that I’d really make it anyway? People from all around the world were submitting videos. Talented people. In that case, what would be the harm? Nobody sees the video, I make my dad happy, and I go on with life as I know it. Good stuff.

Plus, I really wanted to step outside of my comfort zone. I also took a Millionaire Mind Intensive course back in May through Peaks Potential and what they really focused on was changing mindsets. Basically they talked about the fact that what you are doing now, even though it feels comfortable, isn’t really working for you, obviously, since you’re not where you want to be. So, step outside of your comfort zone. Try something different. You’ll get different results.

So I told my dad that I would put in an audition video if he did.

I wish you could have heard how happy he was. He was so excited — talking to me about his ideas, calling me every day for hours at a time. My boss didn’t love that, I could tell.

He really wanted to push the father/daughter concept. I wasn’t so sure. I told him I’d rather do my own thing, but said that I’d mention his video in mine. That way, we’d drive traffic to each others’ videos but it wouldn’t be an all or nothing deal. It was all about popularity to get to the next round. They were judging the videos on other criteria too, but popularity was huge in this first round.

My dad decided to do a fishing-themed video (Internet marketing is like fishing, blah, blah, blah). It was cute, a little too darkly lit, but cute nonetheless. I was very proud of him for shooting it because he was nervous to get in front of the camera. He did take after take, by himself with a camcorder, trying to say what he wanted to say. And saying it the way he wanted to say it.

I shot a video confessing my addiction to lattes. I couldn’t use any brand names in it, but I’ll let the secret out now… I’M ADDICTED TO STARBUCKS GRANDE SOY LATTES ($4.73 CAN). Yes, Starbucks, I bow at your feet. I visit you daily. I give you all my money. PLEASE GIVE ME AN ENDORSEMENT DEAL.

Anyway, as I said, I’m totally addicted to lattes. I drink them daily and have for the past few years. I don’t even want to think about what my total must be. They started off being my treat for going in to my J.O.B. And then they also became a little weekend treat. Yep, I’m a goner. I’ve even gone to two a day while writing this book.

Since I spend way too much on my addiction, I pleaded for Joel Comm’s help. I mean, without exaggeration, I spend $33.11 per week, $146.63 per month and $1,726.45 PER YEAR ON COFFEE.

The video was cute, although cheaply shot on my little Sony camcorder. I edited it on my little Dell laptop (only 396M of RAM) with Premier Elements — so the process was painstakingly slow and unbelievably choppy to do without the right hardware. But I wore my new coat. I pitched my dad’s video at the end… I didn’t really care.

But my dad did. He watched all of the other audition video submissions. He kept an eye blued to the NIM forum. He got people to vote for us. He called me daily, AT WORK, to report on our status and discuss our odds. My boss definitely did not like this. She did not know what we were talking about (she definitely wouldn’t have liked that), she just knew I was on the phone. Dad even began planning and filming his second video (the producers were narrowing down the field to fifty and those fifty were expected/asked/encouraged to enter a second video).

I have to admit, I didn’t even think about a second video. I was busy at work, busy going out with friends… and busy planning my summer vacations. Why would I bother doing something when it could possibly be a waste of my time?

The cut-off for first round votes was a Wednesday night at midnight. My dad and I spent Thursday constantly checking our email, making sure we didn’t miss Joel Comm’s email telling us that we made it into the top fifty. I got caught up in the excitement. I never thought I would — but I can’t resist a good competition. Plus, I hate to lose. Ask anybody.

Thursday night around 8:00, I got my email. I called up my dad… So did you get yours? I was actually convinced that both he and I would get on. I had never even considered otherwise. I totally bought into that father/daughter gimmick. But no, he hadn’t received an email. Maybe it’s coming, I consoled him. They might be sending one at a time. But he never got an email.

The top fifty were posted the next day and Fisherman Cal Luchuck wasn’t one of them. I felt really awful. This was his thing. He wanted it. He wanted us to do it together. I didn’t want to do this alone. We were a father/daughter team. What happened to the team?

But he’s an amazing dad. He was so proud. He was so excited for me and all the possibilities that could open up for me. He wrote me this long email gushing his pride, and telling me that he knew as soon as he heard about this competition that it was for me, that I could and would win it. He had so much belief in me and my abilities — it made me feel so special.

It also dumped a lot of pressure on my shoulders now that I was the only one of us to continue on. I had to give him something to live through