Here we are, already more than a week into the new
year. I SO have not been feeling like writing. I get an idea or two in
my head, I turn on the computer, and I just sit and play solitaire. It
seems like way too much trouble to think hard enough to write any kind
of an engaging essay. Life is not too bad right now, either. I think I
just have the mother of all cases of the winter blahs.
The weather has been absolutely miserable. When it’s
not dark and rainy, it’s dark and icy. Either way, it’s dark. I know the
days are supposed to be getting longer. It’s hard to tell if the sun is
showing up earlier or sticking around later when the clouds are so
heavy you have perpetual twilight. Ugh! I REALLY need a sunny day right
now!
I have a stack of things a mile high (as usual) to
accomplish at the café. We just got the last Christmas tree taken down
this evening, took the wreaths off the doors and peeled off the rest of
the decorations. All that’s left are the poinsettias I bought from one
of the local school fundraisers. They’re still alive, still beautiful,
in fact. I can’t throw them away, and I know if I bring them home they
will become garbage almost immediately. And there is the added concern
that we don’t want the cats eating them. Not good for them at all. And I
clean up enough barf around the house…I don’t need poinsettia puke
added to the mix.
At least de-Christmasing has been accomplished. The
million and ten other things I need to do are still weighing heavy. I
have to re-do the menu. I did a rudimentary cost analysis last week and
found that the price WE pay for provisions has increased over thirteen
percent since last January. So if I don’t raise my menu prices, we’ll be
going to the poorhouse fast.
And I just hate to raise the prices.
People are very price-conscious out here in the sticks. I’ll have them
bitching and moaning for months; saying things like, "How come your
prices are so high? This isn’t Portland, you know." No, it’s not
Portland. But my damn food comes from Portland, and they don’t charge me
any less just because I do business in the boonies. If anything, I pay
more. Why don’t people get that? Duh!!!
AND I have to plan our Valentine’s special, create the
menu, design the ad, figure out the decorations, try and guess how much
of what to order, etc. etc. ad infinitum. This one has me kind of
intimidated. Last Valentine’s Day, we didn’t do anything special, and we
still had a pretty good turn out (overflow from the local restaurants
that DID do something special, I imagine…) This year, I want to try to
actually make the most of the day (it’s supposed to be one of the top
two or three days of the year for dining out…that would make it an
opportunity I can not afford to pass up!) So I’m feeling some pressure,
here…shaking in my boots and cultivating my ulcer.
There are times when I’m concerned that I take this
all too seriously. And times when I worry that I don’t take it seriously
enough. Either way, I worry. And I hate worrying. It takes all the fun
out of it…
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