That is what most companies are actually made of. Not a leap, not a garage, not a term sheet: a year of evenings after work, a savings pot, and a last day in the diary. Bob is a startup coach that plans all three.
Pick your evenings on the calendar itself.
Bob: Enough to talk to forty customers, register as a sole trader and write a plan you could defend to a stranger. Not enough to also redesign the logo three times, so we would skip that.
an evening you build the day job your last day
Bob keeps a roadmap of what still has to happen between now and 10 September 2027, and fits it around your actual calendar. On your evening, this is the sort of message you get.
Tonight: ring the four people who said "interesting" at the market on Saturday and ask what they do instead today. I have pulled their numbers into one list and drafted a two-line note for anyone who doesn't pick up; you'll want to change the second line, it sounds like me.
Then twenty minutes on the plan. The pricing section still says "TBC" and a stranger reading it would stop there. I won't write it for you, but I'll tell you when it holds up.
Runway: £350 in on payday puts you at £350 of £4,200. Last day is still 10 September 2027. Nobody is quitting anything this week.
Bob researches, drafts from what you've written, prepares the Companies House form and books the slot. The plan, the deck and the numbers are yours, because an investor will ask you about them, not Bob. Reviews are what a sceptical seed investor would say, out of ten, with the hardest question and a verdict. UK company, HMRC, UK grants.
Bob is pre-launch and free while we build it. Leave an email and where you are, and we'll write when it's ready for you. No newsletter.