Billhour

You asked how I quote a number I can stand behind after a week that mixed three kinds of pay. I am answering from the chair, not from a slogan. I name the job on the phone before I open the file. A title I will know in December. Who pays. A lump, an hourly rate, or a monthly retainer. The hours I think it needs. Design, a build, writing, or consulting. I start a clock when I sit, pause when a call pulls me out, and stop when I am finished. If I forgot, I add the sitting later with a note so the day is not a story I invent. The first screen is coffee math. What the blended hour came to. What I earned. How many hours already sit in the week. Columns for the days. Whether I am walking toward the monthly figure I chose. I invoice in the currency I chose, and I pick whether the week starts Monday. Lower down I see what remains after I spread a laptop across two years, count tools that bill every month, take only the work share of a household bill, and apply the tax percent I typed myself. When one job cheapens the average I can see it. Rates sit beside each other. The month shows where this pace lands. A year of income by month reminds me which season thins out before I promise another rush. I never made an account. If a client wants paper I build CSV, JSON, or a PDF here and pass it to the share sheet. A backup goes to Files when I remember.