There’s no turning back. I’m officially up to my ears in debt (I’m being dramatic). No, it’s not that bad – but it does have the potential of getting into crisis mode.
I’m waiting for my next client.
I can’t believe I massaged around 600 people here in this shitty little stink hole. First off, it’s in the middle of nowhere. It’s farm country. Apple orchards aplenty, lakes, hiking trails, hunters hunting, motorcycles motoring. And here I am all walled up inside a building that nobody know’s about.
Client #1 – “I never knew this place even existed. And I lived here for 5 years!”
Client #2 – “You should put up some signs outside to let people know you’re here.”
Client #3 – “Man you’re hard to find. This place is like a maze!”
I’m looking at my office differently. Almost like I’m embarrassed of it. How funny life is? I was never embarrassed of it before. Not before I leased my new and improved office space.
If this business venture fails, I’m in trouble. Big trouble in little China kind of trouble. All I can do is pray, and I’ve been doing a lot of that lately.
Please God. Please oh please oh please God.
Tomorrow I call CL&P to turn the power on. Then Bob’s discount furniture where I’ll try to find a love seat in the pit (that’s the really discounted stuff). Then maybe I’ll go to Ikea again.
Money money money, all drained from my pockets like an elephant pissing on a flat rock. That rock is my new business.
Last night I dreamt I was massaging somebody’s forearm and out of nowhere sprouted a half dozen little human fingers protruding out of the flesh of the arm. They squirmed around like the legs of an animal when flipped over on its back. It frightened me so much that I jumped and woke myself up.
What the hell does that mean?
It’s now the next day and I’m once again walled up inside my little office. I’ll be here all day and all night.
When I first moved into this office, Guardian Angels (they hire companions for the elderly) occupied the office across from mine. They moved out a few months later. Well, I come to find out that they now occupy the house directly across from my new office in Cheshire. I mean come on now, what are the chances? Right?
I’m taking that as a good sign. And what a name to have, Guardian Angels!
Last night while I was walking out of Ikea with several large, heavy boxes, the family parked next to my car was also leaving.
Me – “Oh great, now they can watch as I struggle with these boxes without offering to help. Instead of helping, they’ll blame me for being by myself.”
But that wasn’t the case. They helped me. A father and his small son not more than 13 years old, asked if they can help.
If they weren’t there, I would have struggled a lot. Trust me, it was no easy feat. I couldn’t see out of my back window, or the passenger window on my ride home. I had to keep one hand on a large heavy box to stop it from sliding into the side of my head.
It’s funny that my Nissan Cube was able to fit these long slender boxes, but they couldn’t fit into the back of my Dad’s huge truck. I tried when I got home. I had to leave the tailgate down.
I spent around $900 yesterday. I freaked out and had to take inventory of exactly everything else that I still needed to buy. According to my calculations, I need around $2,000 more in furnishings and equipment that I have not yet purchased. Not to mention that I need to assemble everything. The book shelves, file cabinet, armoire, cabinets – everything.
One day at a time.
Then the website. Then hiring people. Then more praying.
What am I doing God? Am I crazy?
Truth is, I have no idea what I’m doing, nor do I have any idea what I’m up against.
I’m getting cold feet. It’s bizarre how true cold feet is. I mean, I knew I was going to go into debt and struggle with this business (it was all part of the plan), but when it’s actually happening, I’m freaking out and doubting my decision.
Damn my first client is 13 minutes late. Maybe he won’t show. It’s my obligation to call him, but I wouldn’t mind if he didn’t show.
I called and left a message.
I’m a massage therapist opening up her own clinic and I have no desire to work anymore. Is this me being irresponsible? One of those words people use to describe me with?
One of my friends accompanied me to Ikea Monday night and appointed herself as my interior decorator. She’s really creative, went to RisD where they learn all about that stuff. She’s going to be upset when she hears that I already picked out everything I need. She’ll be upset that I bought that armoire – the one she didn’t like. I did it all in one day. Yesterday. Because I couldn’t help myself.
The thing is, when I’m scared and nearing the edge of panic, I go into hyper drive and get things done immediately. The sooner I get everything done, the sooner I can relax and continue with my normal routine of lounging, playing video games, and eating hot pockets.
Two more clients to go. Both of them 90 minutes each.
One more client to go.
Zero clients to go. My life force is depleted.
Just in case you guys don’t know my plan, I want to make a mini Massage Envy type of massage clinic. Massage Envy’s make money. They are easy to book with, nothing fancy, dependable hours – people feel safe going there because they know exactly what to expect. Just plain effective massages with no surprises.
This is my goal. My goal just so happens to be an expensive, time-consuming gamble.