The latest December unemployment numbers are in, and though unemployment has remained at a steady 10%, the LA Times reports that if all of the people that have just dropped out of the labor market entirely were counted it would reach 11%. A lot of good and talented people have been laid off and are now looking for work; why would anyone in their right mind quit a stable job?

I started working at Jacobs Interactive nine years ago, just after the dot-com bubble collapsed. I'd ridden two dot-com companies into bankruptcy after building successful internal web design departments in each. The economy was tanking and investor money was disappearing.  I freelanced for awhile before Jacobs Interactive hired me. I'd landed on my feet.

Jacobs Interactive is an internal department with two main corporate clients. One of them recently declared bankruptcy and as a consequence many people throughout our department were laid off. Despite the layoffs my job was secure and would have continued indefinitely. Even with the bankruptcy, we still had plenty of work—more than we could handle. It appeared as if the end of the turbulence was in sight, and after that work would remain steady.

I've always done side projects, and two years ago I set up 3232 Design as an attempt to sidestep freelancing and choose my own clients and expand my creative options. Working for myself was always a dream of mine, but the timing for going out on my own full-time never seemed right. I'd always had a day job. Somebody else had to worry about where my projects were coming from, somebody else made the ultimate decisions.

I had plenty of side projects. I had a three-legged plan, a stable seat on which my dream of being a business owner rested. For the first leg of my plan I saved every dollar I made from 3232 Design and only spent money on equipment and software, creating a capital cushion to smooth out the transition after quitting so I'd have time for marketing and building my client list.

The second leg involved reaching half of the billable hours I'd need to be on my own, then making the jump. If I couldn't ramp it up to full-time within a few months, the third leg would kick in where I'd start looking for another job. I was confident I could find another job with my qualifications.

The only problem with my plan was my day job. In 2008, working 60 hour weeks was taking its toll on me.  Even though I worked 20 hours a week on billable 3232 Design projects, I couldn't just quit the day job. How could I be sure that the work would continue and expand? How could I be sure I could afford mortgage payments, daycare costs, and then pay for my family's healthcare on top of that?

So instead I throttled back my side projects. I allowed new leads to cool, and I got my weekends back. The only projects I accepted were from existing clients of mine. The dream wasn't dead, it was just missing a few legs.

I set a goal: by January of 2009 I'd quit the day job and ramp up.

In January of 2009, the economy was in free-fall. There was no way I wanted to quit my job. I'd already heard stories of designers being laid off left and right, and part of my plan was that if I couldn't ramp up my business in a few months, I'd start looking for another job.

Suddenly that didn't seem like an option. January, then February, then March passed, and the economy just worsened. The unemployment rate kept rising. Friends and colleagues were being laid off all over. I began to despair that I'd never get out on my own without that third leg. Pundits and economists were making comparisons to the Great Depression.

My wife has a great story about her Grandparents during the Depression. They ran a furniture store, and they, like most people during the Depression, were very careful with their money. But when things were at their bleakest, her Grandfather bought a trainload of refrigerators. That optimism saved their business as customers filed in to replace their ailing and broken appliances which had been neglected for years.

Her take-home message was that businesses that start in bad economic times are the most successful if they survive. They aren't buying Aeron chairs or corporate retreats, they're reinvesting in the business in smarter ways because they're always keenly aware of the value of their dollars.

In December 2009, the economy was showing some recovery. The unemployment rate was still sky-high, but there was still no sign that companies were hiring again. The one thing companies were doing was spending on graphic design, marketing and advertising. It occurred to me that while nobody wanted to take on the fixed high costs of an employee, everyone needed design services to succeed in this new, smaller, more competitive market. Businesses still needed their metaphorical refrigerators, recession or not.

I kept hoping that I'd get laid off so at least I could get unemployment if things went really south, but I kept not getting laid off. It became clear that if I wanted my own business full-time, I'd have to take the leap of faith and just quit. I felt weird about resigning since I knew so many people who had been laid off. It felt disrespectful somehow. It felt crazy and irresponsible, and I came up with all kinds of excuses not to quit. I began to follow the healthcare bill, pinning my fear on free universal healthcare and if it passed, THEN I'd quit. Or once I found two or three more long-term clients. Or once the kids were out of daycare and into public schools. Or once the mortgage was paid off.

The date appeared to recede into the infinite future. I decided to just quit, trusting that my business plan was still sound, that the numbers I'd calculated would still work. I'd get over my terror and just pull the trigger. Besides, I'd been busy enough that I wouldn't often be eligible for unemployment if I kept getting checks from clients.  But would my three-legged plan survive with only one leg?

The day I announced my resignation things started happening. Everyone offered congratulations and encouragement, which surprised me a little—I'd expected the blank fearful stares that Jerry Maguire got. But more interesting, people wanted my business card. Everyone knew somebody that wanted design work. By the end of the day I'd run out of cards.

I checked into healthcare costs. I looked at my budget. I recalculated my hourly rate. The numbers were still solid. I glanced at the job boards, and to my surprise there were more jobs listed than last January. What was going on? 

I casually inquired around some of the businesses looking for design employees, and ended up scoring another potential client. There was a lot of work out there, and though lots of people are looking for jobs it seems that not a lot of them are looking for clients.  I guess you only need a one-legged plan as long as that leg is wide enough.

So anyone want a refrigerator? I've got a trainload of them.