From the founder.
Nuby DeLeon
The App That Saved Me From Myself #
Let me tell you about the Box.
Every entrepreneur has one. Mine lived on the corner of my desk — a cardboard receipt box that grew from a hopeful little system into a monument to my own avoidance. By February of each year, it wasn’t just a box anymore. It was a crime scene. Crumpled receipts from gas stations. Mystery charges from Amazon. A Costco receipt the size of a small newspaper. Evidence of a whole year of running a business, just… festering.
I’d stare at it and think, this year will be different.
It wasn’t.
Here’s the thing nobody tells you about being an entrepreneur: you went into business because you’re good at something. Maybe you paint houses. Maybe you shoot video. Maybe you pressure-wash driveways and make them look like they’re straight out of a detergent commercial. You are excellent at your thing.
You are not, however, naturally excellent at tracking mileage, logging expenses, calculating whether that Chamber of Commerce sponsorship is actually paying off, or figuring out if you can even afford to hire someone without quietly losing your mind over a spreadsheet at 11pm.
That last one is a trap a lot of us fall into. You’re killing it. Work is coming in. You think, I need help. So you hire someone — and then you spend the next three months stress-eating while wondering if you’re paying them with money you technically don’t have yet. You had no idea what number you needed to hit to actually support another person. Nobody does. We just sort of… hope.
My biggest enemy wasn’t competition. It wasn’t slow seasons. It was something I call the Forgetting Zone.
The Forgetting Zone is the black hole between when you do the thing and when you sit down at a computer to record the thing. You make a purchase. You intend to log it. Life happens. A client calls. Your kid has a thing. By the time you sit down, you’re piecing together your financial history like a detective who doesn’t have enough coffee.
I tried Quickbooks. Then Freshbooks, which I’ll admit is pretty good — until you realize it still needs you to be you, and you are a person who has the receipt box. It catches a lot. It misses more than you’d think. And at the end of the year, there I’d be: a grown adult, hunting through Amazon order history going, was this business? What WAS this?
Pricing was its own sport.
I spent hours — hours — researching what people charge. Digging through competitor websites, asking around, trying to figure out where I fit. And even then, I was guessing. I’d quote something, feel okay about it, land the job, and then realize mid-project that I’d forgotten to account for something. Commission for a salesperson. The cost of that one piece of equipment I always need. The fact that my margin wasn’t actually a margin — it was an illusion with ambitions.
I started to wonder: what would it feel like to see the actual math in real time? To know, before I sent that quote, exactly what I’d keep?
So I built it. Just for me, at first. A pricing tool that showed me the real numbers — not the optimistic ones.
Then I showed it to my friend with the pressure washing business. He said, “I need this.” Then I thought about the coaches I know. The painters. The landscapers. The people I see at networking events who, when you ask how business is going, give you that specific tired look that means fine, but I’m drowning in admin.
That’s when the app stopped being about me.
Here’s where it got interesting.
I started thinking about every single moment where something falls through the cracks. You meet someone at a networking event. They hand you a card. The card goes in a pile. The pile becomes a collection. The collection becomes a mystery. Six months later you’re thinking, who was that guy who wanted a quote?
What if you could scan that card the second they handed it to you? What if it went straight into a CRM, tagged as a prospect, with one tap?
What if that prospect became a quote, and the quote got texted to a client, and the client approved it on their phone, and you got a notification, and it auto-converted to an invoice, and they paid on the spot, and the job went out to your crew with instructions and a clock-in link, and the hours logged automatically, and the receipt you scanned in the parking lot after buying supplies was already categorized?
What if, at the end of the year, the Forgetting Zone just… didn’t exist anymore?
That’s PriceRight Pro.
It started because I hate doing estimates. It grew because I hate doing taxes. It kept growing because it turns out every single business owner hates these things — we’re just too busy doing our actual jobs to fix it.
You started a business to do the thing you love. PriceRight Pro exists so the business part doesn’t eat you alive.
The Box is optional now.
I still have mine. It’s empty. I kind of miss it.
(I don’t miss it.)
