So much has been building up over the past months and I know I should cut myself some slack, but I also know I need to work harder to keep emotions from getting the best of me. And I need to get things into perspective.
Here's what I've been dealing with lately (sympathy and understanding welcome):
- An overwhelming, pretty much impossible, number of things to do in the coming weeks. Thankfully, though, the bishop just released me from my girls' camp responsibilities, so that's a relief even though I'll miss going.
- A complete lack of sleep. I can't go to sleep at night, and I wake up really early in the morning. Both of which are highly unusual for me. I've been out on the front porch at 3 am noodling around on my guitar more than once lately.
- Uncertainty about our financial future, even though we do have a plan and we are working it. Roger is going to start library school in August and has already started applying to jobs. I've got projects lined up that will lead to income eventually if not immediately. And we will come out of the business with at least part of our nest egg intact.
- Uncertainty about whether we'll have a baby soon, and if we do, when he will be born. And do we need to hop in the car at a moment's notice and drive to New Mexico? And how long will we need to stay there? And how are we going to get all of the paperwork, including home visits and doctor appointments, together in such a short amount of time? Don't get me wrong--all of the work and uncertainty is worth it. But it sure adds a stressful element to our lives right now.
- Lots and lots of wacky emotions about closing the store. Could we have tried harder to make it work? I'm trying not to feel a sense of failure because in the end we didn't make it work (although I am damn proud that we broke even in a business as tough as the book business in a town as small as Springville and that we really did make a difference in our community). I've got all kinds of guilt about letting people down (including Jack who is very mad about it) because we're making The Read Leaf go away--some of them have actually come in shaking with anger and some have even cried. I know I should focus on the fact that they're mad/sad because we meant something to them, but I'm totally wired for guilt. And I love our customers.
- Anxiety about selling all of our inventory in time. If you're reading this and you're anywhere near Springville, please, please, please come shop at our store! And please, please, please spread the word. We've got some great deals!
1 comment:
Margy, I can so sympathize with your emotions over the sale of The Reaf Leaf. As a retired fellow entrepreneur, let me say that 7 and a half years in business and putting food on the table at home tell me that you, Roger and Jack are a resounding success! I am very proud of you!
If I remember my statistics correctly, 90% of small businesses don't make it. Not only did you make it and survive financially but you were so successful that some of your customers are more than disappointed that you are leaving. The Read Leaf and the Laytons wont be forgotten.
As for Jack's disappointment, perhaps his being a big brother, whether in the same home or from afar, will help fill the void. Perhaps he can look forward to teaching his little brother about the wonders of books.
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