It's the hottest day of the year, possibly a record, and I'm sitting here with shorts, no socks or shoes in a two-foot-by-four-foot room -- my office -- sweating from every pore in my body. In the corner, a fan mocks me by circulating hot air. The air-conditioning unit, probably built in 1932, is down again, for the 100th time already, and it's early June yet.

I avoid walking down the hall for fear an employee will attack me. It's actually much cooler outside. In fact, I expect to see little thunderstorms break out above the entrance door because of the extreme differences in the air temperature between inside and out. It's ugly, all right.

This is entrepreneurship in its rawest form. People stuffed in a 2,000-square-foot office, using one bathroom and sweating in unison. Strategically placed fans are the only relief, save for a trip to the car for a quick shot of freon. In other offices, they have dress-down days. In this office we're ready to announce strip-down days. I know that as soon as we commit to nude Fridays, the air-conditioning system will kick on again, and we'll be sitting there freezing. It's testing us.

It's enough that I have to worry about making enough money to feed the cats. Now I have to become an air-conditioning technician? "I thought you said the air was fixed," commented one of my more HVAC-savvy employees. "I think the condenser is frozen. There's no air coming through at all. What do you think?"

"Well, I really don't know. I'll get back to you on that," I say. This is definitely not my field. We've had about a dozen or so air-conditioning guys check the system over the year, and no one has come up with the answer. Each time, the same thing happens. They get it working, and then it breaks down. Time to get some women technicians in here to do the job right, I say.

It's the little things in business that trip you up, not the big client moments. The day-to-day events that somehow don't know the meaning of the word "routine." There is no routine. Things happen all the time. If you're not ready to put out fires, crawl back to the embrace of corporate America, baby.

Nothing prepares you for these types of crises. You just have to do the best you can as they come up and hope you do the right thing. Back in your cushy corporate job, you could complain to someone. Not here. The accusing finger points perpetually back at your own chest. You're the big cheese. So, do something.

I've had it. The drone of the fan and this drenched Eddie Bauer T-shirt have finally gotten to me. It's time to go home and jump in the pool, a short respite before it starts all over again. Maybe tomorrow will be different. Then again, it's always different.

George Giokas is the president and CEO of StaffWriters Plus, a specialty agency that places writers in temporary and permanent positions with corporate and other employers. It also provides editorial consulting work. His database includes 2,500 writers and editors specializing in more than 60 categories. His Web site is located at www.staffwriters.com, and you can E-mail him at george@staffwriters.com.