I just subscribed to The News From Lake Wobegon and This American Life. They are free. Free!!!
I might weep over the goodness that is public radio.
In other completely unrelated news, will you all keep your fingers crossed for the store? We seem to be on a little bit of a roll and I want--no, I need it to keep on going for like, well, the rest of my working life or so. Because I really don't want to get a different job.
Showing posts with label The entrepreneurial spirit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The entrepreneurial spirit. Show all posts
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Friday, May 22, 2009
Why customer service is an art form
Customer comes in making the kind of beeline for the desk that usually indicates an intention to pick up a special order; I greet him as he walks around two customers already in the store, who are half browsing but have also been somewhat engaged in conversation with me.
Customer (baseball cap, undershirt, 60's, a stranger to me): I have a question. I don't think you'll have it, but do you have "Woman in White?"
Me: Good question! I know that section pretty well, and I think we probably don't. (Checks computer.) We'd be happy to get it for you, but it's not in the store. We have stocked it before. Hmm. We sold it in '07, and it looks like it was just a slow seller.
Customer: (congratulating himself) I bet it was.
Me: But it's easy to reorder.
Customer: No, thanks. (wanders over to card spinners, other customers say goodbye and leave without making a purchase. I don't think they would have if I'd kept talking to them, since the conversation had led to hard-to-read questions about whether discussions at the Women of the World book club were feminist, but who knows?)
Me: (receiving books into inventory, making chitchat) I read "The Moonstone," but not "Woman in White."
Customer: You don't carry postcards.
Me: Sure we do. They're over here. (Walks to Syracuse Cultural Workers postcard display near register, brings them out onto counter.)
Customer: I can look at them myself.
Me: No problem. (goes back to receiving)
Customer: (snorts) "Resist Global Corporatocracy." Now, you can't send that to someone.
Me: Depends on the someone.
Customer: Maybe you can put it on the wall, but you can't send it to someone.
Me: (shrugs, keeps checking off books)
Customer: (browses cards a minute or two more) Well, thank you.
Me: Thank you for coming by.
Customer: (coming down on each word, sounding like he's correcting me this time) Thank you.
Customer (baseball cap, undershirt, 60's, a stranger to me): I have a question. I don't think you'll have it, but do you have "Woman in White?"
Me: Good question! I know that section pretty well, and I think we probably don't. (Checks computer.) We'd be happy to get it for you, but it's not in the store. We have stocked it before. Hmm. We sold it in '07, and it looks like it was just a slow seller.
Customer: (congratulating himself) I bet it was.
Me: But it's easy to reorder.
Customer: No, thanks. (wanders over to card spinners, other customers say goodbye and leave without making a purchase. I don't think they would have if I'd kept talking to them, since the conversation had led to hard-to-read questions about whether discussions at the Women of the World book club were feminist, but who knows?)
Me: (receiving books into inventory, making chitchat) I read "The Moonstone," but not "Woman in White."
Customer: You don't carry postcards.
Me: Sure we do. They're over here. (Walks to Syracuse Cultural Workers postcard display near register, brings them out onto counter.)
Customer: I can look at them myself.
Me: No problem. (goes back to receiving)
Customer: (snorts) "Resist Global Corporatocracy." Now, you can't send that to someone.
Me: Depends on the someone.
Customer: Maybe you can put it on the wall, but you can't send it to someone.
Me: (shrugs, keeps checking off books)
Customer: (browses cards a minute or two more) Well, thank you.
Me: Thank you for coming by.
Customer: (coming down on each word, sounding like he's correcting me this time) Thank you.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Bring on 2009!
Hi, all. I didn't really want to check on how long it's been since I abandoned you the last time I posted, but then I checked anyway: it seemed like a million years, but it turns out it wasn't quite two weeks, which for me isn't that long of a gap. The good news hiding inside my tenuous grip on the passage of time is that it got so busy at the store that it felt like there would be no end to it--even though, alas, I knew to treasure every single $1500 day. We were slammed, crazy-busy with lines of people at the register at the high points in the day. I haven't run the numbers on the month yet (the store's closed today) but I suspect I'm going to find we're still down from last December: everyone is, all through retail, and I don't have any reason to believe we're different, but it wasn't for lack of customers. The month started slow, and we didn't have as many large sales, but I'm pretty sure we had at least as many transactions as last year. This is good, whatever financial stuff comes down the pike. We're doing something right, if people in the 'hood are choosing to bring their dollars to us when dollars are scarcer.
I'm not going back to last New Year's Day in any kind of archival way, but I suspect, without looking, that it sucked royally, and last January went downhill from there. This year, I'm feeling okay. It's been a better start, anyway. I've been living my life pretty intensely these past few years, and 2008 was up there for intensity. In the lows I was a furious, sobbing, wreck, curled tighly into myself, unreachable: the highs were like sunshine and chocolate and swimming a mile and the feel of your baby's cheek under your lips. The work I did getting from the first to the second was really fucking hard, not that I was doing it alone--well, that's the point, that's what I had to learn how to do, to uncurl and let myself be reached, to trust the love around me. It's harder than it looks, this trust business. I'm hoping it gets easier, though, that this year the direction is uphill, not down. I'm hoping, I'm hoping.
I'm not going back to last New Year's Day in any kind of archival way, but I suspect, without looking, that it sucked royally, and last January went downhill from there. This year, I'm feeling okay. It's been a better start, anyway. I've been living my life pretty intensely these past few years, and 2008 was up there for intensity. In the lows I was a furious, sobbing, wreck, curled tighly into myself, unreachable: the highs were like sunshine and chocolate and swimming a mile and the feel of your baby's cheek under your lips. The work I did getting from the first to the second was really fucking hard, not that I was doing it alone--well, that's the point, that's what I had to learn how to do, to uncurl and let myself be reached, to trust the love around me. It's harder than it looks, this trust business. I'm hoping it gets easier, though, that this year the direction is uphill, not down. I'm hoping, I'm hoping.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Happy Store Birthday to Me, sort of
The store opened on the Saturday before Thanksgiving, 2005. It was a crazy process, and a long one, and it is not ideal for someone with seasonal affective disorder to be starting a major venture at the exact same time of year, to the week, when her biochemistry takes its annual nosedive.*
But that is what I did, not quite intentionally, but the retail season being what it is, the Saturday before Thanksgiving was the absolute last day I could tolerate opening--in the give and take between me and the contractors, therefore, the Saturday before Thanksgiving was the point past which I would not let deadlines be pushed. There were electricians installing track lighting in the morning, but at noon we opened our doors.
The first birthday felt like a huge accomplishment, and for different reasons so did the second. Last year at this time I was astonished that things were obviously improving. I'd gotten myself into a serious hole and it seemed like I was getting out of it. There were setbacks, but that was largely true. This year, there's still more climbing to do to get out of the hole, but we will emerge. Only it's a little harder to see where we're going after that. The economy is hard. Not horrible around here, actually: houses still sell, and most folks around here are relatively recession-insulated. There's no big company that's about to leave town, and in my case, my customers are the kind who see books as a necessity more than a luxury. But we're still feeling it. We were especially feeling it before the election, but even with the election over and people's moods turning around, it's still hard to see the kinds of steep gains in sales that would make me feel better about the store's long-term health.
I just feel mired. I know that a lot of this is about the time of year, as well as the economy. But I am having a hard time getting things done, as always, and a hard time feeling happy about the things I do get done, which is not always true. It's my bad time of year: mid-November to the end of March or early April.
I'm trying to keep it front and center that depression means that things that would give me a sense of accomplishment, a sense of "hey, I got that done!," don't. They just don't. Instead, this time of year each thing I do just seems to clear the way for the next thing to come at me and make me start the getting-things-done process all over again from the beginning. Sometimes I hang onto tasks I could finish easily as a kind of shield, or I leave little pieces of disorganization in place as a way to slow down the production line a little so it's moving at a pace I can handle emotionally, even if practically speaking I could easily be moving a lot faster. I'm capable of being more effective, but I'm not capable of feeling more effective, so I bring down my level of competence to the place where I can handle it.
This morning, I got change from the credit union, and I got the cake for the weekend's celebration. It was two trips when it could have been one, and both of those stops were places I have been on errands in the last two days and I could easily have gotten what I needed then if I'd made a list and been planful, but sloppiness is more where I'm at. I'll go over just to be around some now, and tomorrow, too. But I don't really want to be part of festivities I can't feel.
It's depressing.
*Kind of like what it's doing this week, right on schedule. It's the annual kablooey! of my sense of pleasure and ability to connect to the world. A. and Phantom are both on me to use my lightbox, and I am, and it's helping a lot, but the other major piece of routine that lets me stay on top of my depression instead of going under it is exercise, and there I am not doing well. The bottom has fallen out of my swim schedule because of what I suspect (after prompting from Phantom) is going to turn out to be cough-variant asthma, though I don't have a diagnosis yet. I have a breathing study on Tuesday, in the slot when I would have been swimming, and the name of a pulmonologist to consult. I'll let you know how it goes.
But that is what I did, not quite intentionally, but the retail season being what it is, the Saturday before Thanksgiving was the absolute last day I could tolerate opening--in the give and take between me and the contractors, therefore, the Saturday before Thanksgiving was the point past which I would not let deadlines be pushed. There were electricians installing track lighting in the morning, but at noon we opened our doors.
The first birthday felt like a huge accomplishment, and for different reasons so did the second. Last year at this time I was astonished that things were obviously improving. I'd gotten myself into a serious hole and it seemed like I was getting out of it. There were setbacks, but that was largely true. This year, there's still more climbing to do to get out of the hole, but we will emerge. Only it's a little harder to see where we're going after that. The economy is hard. Not horrible around here, actually: houses still sell, and most folks around here are relatively recession-insulated. There's no big company that's about to leave town, and in my case, my customers are the kind who see books as a necessity more than a luxury. But we're still feeling it. We were especially feeling it before the election, but even with the election over and people's moods turning around, it's still hard to see the kinds of steep gains in sales that would make me feel better about the store's long-term health.
I just feel mired. I know that a lot of this is about the time of year, as well as the economy. But I am having a hard time getting things done, as always, and a hard time feeling happy about the things I do get done, which is not always true. It's my bad time of year: mid-November to the end of March or early April.
I'm trying to keep it front and center that depression means that things that would give me a sense of accomplishment, a sense of "hey, I got that done!," don't. They just don't. Instead, this time of year each thing I do just seems to clear the way for the next thing to come at me and make me start the getting-things-done process all over again from the beginning. Sometimes I hang onto tasks I could finish easily as a kind of shield, or I leave little pieces of disorganization in place as a way to slow down the production line a little so it's moving at a pace I can handle emotionally, even if practically speaking I could easily be moving a lot faster. I'm capable of being more effective, but I'm not capable of feeling more effective, so I bring down my level of competence to the place where I can handle it.
This morning, I got change from the credit union, and I got the cake for the weekend's celebration. It was two trips when it could have been one, and both of those stops were places I have been on errands in the last two days and I could easily have gotten what I needed then if I'd made a list and been planful, but sloppiness is more where I'm at. I'll go over just to be around some now, and tomorrow, too. But I don't really want to be part of festivities I can't feel.
It's depressing.
*Kind of like what it's doing this week, right on schedule. It's the annual kablooey! of my sense of pleasure and ability to connect to the world. A. and Phantom are both on me to use my lightbox, and I am, and it's helping a lot, but the other major piece of routine that lets me stay on top of my depression instead of going under it is exercise, and there I am not doing well. The bottom has fallen out of my swim schedule because of what I suspect (after prompting from Phantom) is going to turn out to be cough-variant asthma, though I don't have a diagnosis yet. I have a breathing study on Tuesday, in the slot when I would have been swimming, and the name of a pulmonologist to consult. I'll let you know how it goes.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Store miscellania
Recently, I've been doing some long-overdue publisher orders, and the books that wind up on those orders are the ones that we have been living without for awhile, so I'm looking over the sales numbers, wondering. The rule of thumb is that you want to turn your stock three times in a year, so if a book has sold less than three times in twelve months, I'm getting more ruthless about letting it go out of stock.
I'm closing in on three years of doing this, which is as long as I taught high school full time* and I think I'm better at this part of my job than when I started, right there at the core of my work: judging what my customers will buy.
One thing they pretty much won't buy is cd's, so we're selling off all our adult cd's at more or less cost. What I finally realized is that this is the perfect chance to refresh the store's collection of cd's. If they make a detour to my laptop's hard drive before they make it into the cd rack, well, ya know. These things happen.
*I taught in high schools in one way or another for more like eight years, so I have awhile yet before I'm caught up.
I'm closing in on three years of doing this, which is as long as I taught high school full time* and I think I'm better at this part of my job than when I started, right there at the core of my work: judging what my customers will buy.
One thing they pretty much won't buy is cd's, so we're selling off all our adult cd's at more or less cost. What I finally realized is that this is the perfect chance to refresh the store's collection of cd's. If they make a detour to my laptop's hard drive before they make it into the cd rack, well, ya know. These things happen.
*I taught in high schools in one way or another for more like eight years, so I have awhile yet before I'm caught up.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
I finished my homework, can I blog now?
I made Deathly Hallows our book group selection for August, so this really was homework for me. Since I legitimately had the book at around noon on Wednesday, I don't really have any excuse for not finishing until 9 this evening, but I had some napping to do. Having finished, I don't really want to jump into the spoiler threads yet. I know I'm going to spend way too much time talking about it in the next weeks.
The thing about a Harry Potter release is that it's a kind of secular High Holiday. Part of the experience is knowing that everyone is experiencing the same text at pretty much the same time. But if you push that metaphor, you'll find I'm not in the congregation with the rest of you. I'm more like the office staff that made sure the childcare was lined up and arranged the kiddush and sent out all the mailings. And it does make it harder to get into the experience because you're oriented to everyone else's.
For tonight, I want just a little while of feeling like there was a possibility that I read it just to enjoy it.
* * * * *
Can I tell you about Z.'s wand? At the party last night, she made a wand "just like all de odder big kids" and somehow there was a Tallulah in the craft box--I think someone on my my staff must have shoved it in the box when it fell out of a Maisy pop-up book. So her wand is peuple, and it has Tallulah on it. Wow! (Edited to add: we don't watch the Maisy TV show b/c we don't watch TV, only Wallace and Gromit videos, but I found this description of the Maisy-Tallulah relationship fascinating. And on the topic of Wallace and Gromit videos, I think we are ready to branch out. Any suggestions?)
The thing about a Harry Potter release is that it's a kind of secular High Holiday. Part of the experience is knowing that everyone is experiencing the same text at pretty much the same time. But if you push that metaphor, you'll find I'm not in the congregation with the rest of you. I'm more like the office staff that made sure the childcare was lined up and arranged the kiddush and sent out all the mailings. And it does make it harder to get into the experience because you're oriented to everyone else's.
For tonight, I want just a little while of feeling like there was a possibility that I read it just to enjoy it.
* * * * *
Can I tell you about Z.'s wand? At the party last night, she made a wand "just like all de odder big kids" and somehow there was a Tallulah in the craft box--I think someone on my my staff must have shoved it in the box when it fell out of a Maisy pop-up book. So her wand is peuple, and it has Tallulah on it. Wow! (Edited to add: we don't watch the Maisy TV show b/c we don't watch TV, only Wallace and Gromit videos, but I found this description of the Maisy-Tallulah relationship fascinating. And on the topic of Wallace and Gromit videos, I think we are ready to branch out. Any suggestions?)
I heart my staff
Phew doesn't even begin to cover it.
I'll blog it better after I've actually had shabbat (abridged), but can I say, at 1:30 in the morning, that the only, only single mistake at the register, in the entire 25 hour period was mine? And I wrote myself a note so I remembered it and it was easy to account for?
Halleluyah!
There are many, many, many other things for which I am massively grateful to these people, but right now that one tops my list.
And Body Tr@ce is still our bestseller, but only by 20 books (really, I should email the author and let him know). Deathly Hallows will pass it tomorrow morning, though. Do you know how many books we've sold more than 20 copies of in the past year? 17. Do you know how many of those have had either an author event or a local connection or both? 13.
My feet are tired. I'm going to bed.
I'll blog it better after I've actually had shabbat (abridged), but can I say, at 1:30 in the morning, that the only, only single mistake at the register, in the entire 25 hour period was mine? And I wrote myself a note so I remembered it and it was easy to account for?
Halleluyah!
There are many, many, many other things for which I am massively grateful to these people, but right now that one tops my list.
And Body Tr@ce is still our bestseller, but only by 20 books (really, I should email the author and let him know). Deathly Hallows will pass it tomorrow morning, though. Do you know how many books we've sold more than 20 copies of in the past year? 17. Do you know how many of those have had either an author event or a local connection or both? 13.
My feet are tired. I'm going to bed.
Friday, July 20, 2007
Party minus 2 hours
Here in the Rhyming house, Grandad is boning up on JK Rowling's backlist, Z. is having a snack with Mommy, GranGran is (we think) still at her meeting, and Mama is refining her newly acquired Flckr skills. Turns out Flckr's standard medium size results in the right margin of all my pictures being chopped off, so I fiddled with the size. These are: width="400" height="300", if you're interested in these details.
One thing Mama is noticing is that she has apparently done a very good job of branding because hardly any of the shots she took of Potter party decorations are free of the store logo. (I think I've found some that won't tempt you to come stalk me, but I'm just gonna slip in a little friendly reminder of my strong desire to keep this blog's name and the store's name completely separate in the Big Brotherly eye of Google et al. And of my willingness to delete comments to that end.)
The faced-out book has 7 hours left as the store's all-time bestseller. It was written pseudonymously by the editor of the Co-op on the Corner's newsletter. We can always tell he's been working the floor because we get a slew of people in looking for this. HP7 is already at number 13 on our list and, yes, it hasn't been released yet.
Harry Potter-themed cupcakes:
Have a snitch:
Happy reading, all!!!!
Because I always do what Phantom says
... I uploaded some photos to this dormant Flckr account I opened a year ago to stalk try to contact a friend from high school. I posted the goutweed photo to the blog via Flckr, and Phantom was right, it is a cool interface, very easy to use. I haven't figured out how to put two photos into one post, though, so I'm back to Blogger for this one.
To put those photos up, I had to hunt each one down in my iphoto library, where they're all stored by the date they were taken. I realized something: I didn't take a single photo of Z.--or anyone else--for all of 2006. We have some pictures of me reading to her in the newly-opened store (which are unfortunately unbloggable because we are both wearing shirts with the store's logo). And then this baby
becomes this baby
The thing with the camera was that we filled the memory card, and the pictures of the birth were on there, so I superstitiously didn't want to clear it, and then we lost the camera in the house, which really just means that no one was motivated to look for it. For a year! For more than a year!
Blogging motivated me. My template is Dark and Somber, not to say Morbid. I wanted to have some pictures around the place to cheer it up a little, so I hunted the camera down and took it to Staples and bought it a nice new memory card with lots more gigaram, or whatever, than I can use in a lifetime because it was on sale.
It's not like I didn't know that opening the store threw me for a loop. I was the one being thrown, after all. But wow, we have no pictures of her first birthday and none of her first steps and none of her very cute Purim costume from that year and none of the vacation last summer where she was so sick but she did spend some nice time at the lake. Not one of her cast. None of that. The picture in my profile was taken by a wedding photographer, or it wouldn't exist. It's like I lost a year of my daughter's life.
Right now, I'm wondering about how the blog is functioning in my life in lots of ways--I know! you noticed! you're not dummies!--and, well, this bit about the pictures, bringing the pictures back? It's important.
To put those photos up, I had to hunt each one down in my iphoto library, where they're all stored by the date they were taken. I realized something: I didn't take a single photo of Z.--or anyone else--for all of 2006. We have some pictures of me reading to her in the newly-opened store (which are unfortunately unbloggable because we are both wearing shirts with the store's logo). And then this baby
becomes this baby
The thing with the camera was that we filled the memory card, and the pictures of the birth were on there, so I superstitiously didn't want to clear it, and then we lost the camera in the house, which really just means that no one was motivated to look for it. For a year! For more than a year!
Blogging motivated me. My template is Dark and Somber, not to say Morbid. I wanted to have some pictures around the place to cheer it up a little, so I hunted the camera down and took it to Staples and bought it a nice new memory card with lots more gigaram, or whatever, than I can use in a lifetime because it was on sale.
It's not like I didn't know that opening the store threw me for a loop. I was the one being thrown, after all. But wow, we have no pictures of her first birthday and none of her first steps and none of her very cute Purim costume from that year and none of the vacation last summer where she was so sick but she did spend some nice time at the lake. Not one of her cast. None of that. The picture in my profile was taken by a wedding photographer, or it wouldn't exist. It's like I lost a year of my daughter's life.
Right now, I'm wondering about how the blog is functioning in my life in lots of ways--I know! you noticed! you're not dummies!--and, well, this bit about the pictures, bringing the pictures back? It's important.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Buzz
Spent an hour this morning collecting sticks in the woods with one of my managers. It's been wet in the woods recently, so they are now drying on the deck. We need to check on our levels of glue, sequin, glitter, feathers. But it's just double-checking--the craft box is well-stocked here. (Nah, these wands won't pass muster at Hogwarts, but they will be oh so much more fabulous.)
The tarot reader is booked. The HP-themed cupcakes are ordered. We have an owl above the register. Various other magical paraphernalia is trickling in. Signs are printed and ready to turn the pet section into Care of Magical Creatures and the community room into Divination and I don't know what all else. The spreadsheet with the preorders is up to date. The slips are printed.
Honestly, honestly, there is no reason for me not to just do what I would usually do on a Thursday. If only my veins weren't tingling so much.
The tarot reader is booked. The HP-themed cupcakes are ordered. We have an owl above the register. Various other magical paraphernalia is trickling in. Signs are printed and ready to turn the pet section into Care of Magical Creatures and the community room into Divination and I don't know what all else. The spreadsheet with the preorders is up to date. The slips are printed.
Honestly, honestly, there is no reason for me not to just do what I would usually do on a Thursday. If only my veins weren't tingling so much.
Monday, June 25, 2007
Thursday, June 14, 2007
And then again ...
... we did just hear we're being nominated for Be$t of Phil@delphi@.
If you know any kids who want to be in a photo-shoot next Wednesday at 4:30, send 'em my way. Scallen3 at AmericaOnline.
If you know any kids who want to be in a photo-shoot next Wednesday at 4:30, send 'em my way. Scallen3 at AmericaOnline.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Some good news
Ran the numbers for the last week on a whim--and shoot, if we keep this up we won't be breaking even, exactly, but we'd be clearing payroll and most of rent on the margin. And it's not even the holiday season--okay, okay, we did sell a lot of gift certificates for grads and teachers, but those folks usually go over when they redeem them, so that's good news down the line.
I kvetch so much about the store I thought I should kvell a little, too.
Keep on scrolling, there's audience participation in the next one.
I kvetch so much about the store I thought I should kvell a little, too.
Keep on scrolling, there's audience participation in the next one.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Water, water, everywhere
There is too much water in the wrong places in my house, which is at least 130 years old, but the plumbing and skylight are less than 5 years old.
We have a slow-draining shower, a slow-draining sink, a toilet-tank intake that pours out water every time you sit on the commode (and until we figured that out, it was causing leaks in the ceiling below), a skylight that leaks when rain hits it just so--all of which piss me off all over again at the pothead contractor who did the renovation, but let's not go there.
The weekend's big storm confirmed what I've been guessing--there's also now a leak in our bedroom near the front window, right above where my toes are when I sleep. (The bedroom is on the second floor of our three-storey house.) I think this means that the third-floor window casing is leaky, and since the windows are all of the same vintage we'll probably have to re-do them all.
We also have squirrels in the walls.
The repairs will get done, but some of them maybe not this year ... or next. I feel terrible about money from the store without having my house falling apart around me. It makes me feel that much more vulnerable and crazed, and I wonder if I'm sabotaging myself financially so that the store won't succeed and I'll have to get a real job, which I don't want, but financially what I'm doing is insane and possibly irresponsible.
Have I mentioned that I'm not paying myself? And the store is losing money? This is as expected, for the record--it's losing much less money than last year, which bodes well for next year, but even if we break even next year I'll have a hard time paying myself before offering my staff health insurance. Assuming I hold out that long.
Expecting something and living it are far from the same thing.
We have a slow-draining shower, a slow-draining sink, a toilet-tank intake that pours out water every time you sit on the commode (and until we figured that out, it was causing leaks in the ceiling below), a skylight that leaks when rain hits it just so--all of which piss me off all over again at the pothead contractor who did the renovation, but let's not go there.
The weekend's big storm confirmed what I've been guessing--there's also now a leak in our bedroom near the front window, right above where my toes are when I sleep. (The bedroom is on the second floor of our three-storey house.) I think this means that the third-floor window casing is leaky, and since the windows are all of the same vintage we'll probably have to re-do them all.
We also have squirrels in the walls.
The repairs will get done, but some of them maybe not this year ... or next. I feel terrible about money from the store without having my house falling apart around me. It makes me feel that much more vulnerable and crazed, and I wonder if I'm sabotaging myself financially so that the store won't succeed and I'll have to get a real job, which I don't want, but financially what I'm doing is insane and possibly irresponsible.
Have I mentioned that I'm not paying myself? And the store is losing money? This is as expected, for the record--it's losing much less money than last year, which bodes well for next year, but even if we break even next year I'll have a hard time paying myself before offering my staff health insurance. Assuming I hold out that long.
Expecting something and living it are far from the same thing.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Sweet relief
The deposit resurfaced. Phew. A. found it last night.
If it hadn't been Passover, it would have turned up sooner: I put it on a ledge where we put plates and cups that are on their way back down to the kitchen, along with other small items to go downstairs. But the Passover dishware doesn't circulate in the same way.
If it hadn't been Passover, it would have turned up sooner: I put it on a ledge where we put plates and cups that are on their way back down to the kitchen, along with other small items to go downstairs. But the Passover dishware doesn't circulate in the same way.
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
Financial mistakes and family planning
Last week I had a perfect storm of financial idiocy. First, a toddler of the store's acquaintance (not Z.) broke the fax machine. It was a lesson in why you should go ahead and correct a child, even if its mother is there, if your property is at risk. The mother very reasonably replaced the fax machine, but the new one didn't arrive until Friday, when I was already rushing off to points north. Why is the fax machine important to this story? Well, because I can't authorize a wire transfer without faxing my signature. Why couldn't I go to the co-op on the corner and use theirs for 50 cents a page like I used to when I had no fax? Uhhhh .... mmmm .... no reason. It just didn't occur to me.
Second, I lost the deposit. It was on the dining room table on Wednesday when I cleared it for dinner. It was not in evidence anywhere I looked on Thursday or Friday, before we left. The deposit represents only a fraction of the store's sales (most sales are by credit card and go directly into the store's account after mastercard plays the float for a day) but by the time I'm ready to go to the bank the cash and checks have added up enough to cover a few of my smaller vendors. I don't know what's wrong with my brain that I can't remember where I put this little, valuable stack of paper.
Third, I went ahead and mailed off a pile of checks anyway on Friday morning. In my defense, I knew that the fax machine was on its way, my manager had my signed authorization to fax off as soon as the new machine was set up, and the kind of transfer I've been doing recently is next day at the latest. It was still really, really dumb.
As I was driving across the Walt Whitman bridge on our way to the NJ turnpike, A. was fielding calls from my manager and my financial advisor. Finally it was clear the fax had gone through, but when I heard A. saying "Not til Thursday?" I knew I was in trouble. The local vendor checks were going to start hitting the account on Tuesday. The largest two, to Behemoth Media Empire and Slick National Book Distributor, would probably take a week or more, but there was no guarantee of that. And given what the next four days looked like there was not one thing I could do until after second seder.
The happy ending is that we were able to do a credit card cash advance today before any checks bounced, and tomorrow we'll have the money to pay back the credit card, but I hate these kinds of financial acrobatics. I still can't find the deposit and on top of needing the money to be somewhere I can use it, I can't stop berating myself for this memory gap. Is it mom brain? Is it hypothyroidism (I had blood drawn to check for this on Friday)? Is it sleep deprivation? Is it my usual absent-mindedness about keys and glasses and wallets, now extending itself to actual cash, which it never has before? Is it my deep feelings of entrepreneurial inadequacy expressing themselves through self-sabotage? And I don't even need to ask if it's my slovenly housekeeping. Duh.
Owning a business is like being out on a limb that constantly snaps and creaks underneath you.
It was in this emotional context that I spent much of this weekend at my in-laws, largely cocooning myself with novels and knitting. Also they have a full-length mirror, something our house lacks. Between the cocoon and the reflection, I came to a place of clarity:
I can't try to get pregnant again until I am at or below my pre-pregnancy weight. This was something I achieved 10 days after giving birth, but not in a happy way since those of you following this story know that Z. was hospitalized for 7 of those 10 days--now I'm back to about 10 pounds over pre-pregnancy and a full 60 pounds over anything like my ideal weight. Add 25-30 pounds of pregnancy on top of that? No.
And I can't try to get pregnant again until I'm confident it won't bankrupt us and destroy the store.
We've been talking about inseminating again this summer. The plan was to try again after Z. turned 2, and here she is, 2. Our donor was game when we brought it up last fall, but he teaches and wanted to wait for summer. The past few months I've been sorta charting, and starting to identify, though distantly, with moms pregnant with baby #2. But getting back on that 2 weeks on/2 weeks off merry-go-round felt like an ominous thing looming over me. Given the circumstances of Z.'s birth, beginning another pregnancy will require a leap of faith no matter when we start.
So I got it--now is not the time. 2007 is not the year. I have some worries about putting it off--36 is more fertile than 37, and somehow 3 seems a better age for a first sibling than 4--but those are sort of theoretical worries. Mostly I feel like I've given myself enough time to take care of myself, physically, and to have a holiday season that doesn't need to get plowed back into capital improvements.
I'm trying to take a lesson to heart about not making commitments before you have everything in hand you need to honor them.
Second, I lost the deposit. It was on the dining room table on Wednesday when I cleared it for dinner. It was not in evidence anywhere I looked on Thursday or Friday, before we left. The deposit represents only a fraction of the store's sales (most sales are by credit card and go directly into the store's account after mastercard plays the float for a day) but by the time I'm ready to go to the bank the cash and checks have added up enough to cover a few of my smaller vendors. I don't know what's wrong with my brain that I can't remember where I put this little, valuable stack of paper.
Third, I went ahead and mailed off a pile of checks anyway on Friday morning. In my defense, I knew that the fax machine was on its way, my manager had my signed authorization to fax off as soon as the new machine was set up, and the kind of transfer I've been doing recently is next day at the latest. It was still really, really dumb.
As I was driving across the Walt Whitman bridge on our way to the NJ turnpike, A. was fielding calls from my manager and my financial advisor. Finally it was clear the fax had gone through, but when I heard A. saying "Not til Thursday?" I knew I was in trouble. The local vendor checks were going to start hitting the account on Tuesday. The largest two, to Behemoth Media Empire and Slick National Book Distributor, would probably take a week or more, but there was no guarantee of that. And given what the next four days looked like there was not one thing I could do until after second seder.
The happy ending is that we were able to do a credit card cash advance today before any checks bounced, and tomorrow we'll have the money to pay back the credit card, but I hate these kinds of financial acrobatics. I still can't find the deposit and on top of needing the money to be somewhere I can use it, I can't stop berating myself for this memory gap. Is it mom brain? Is it hypothyroidism (I had blood drawn to check for this on Friday)? Is it sleep deprivation? Is it my usual absent-mindedness about keys and glasses and wallets, now extending itself to actual cash, which it never has before? Is it my deep feelings of entrepreneurial inadequacy expressing themselves through self-sabotage? And I don't even need to ask if it's my slovenly housekeeping. Duh.
Owning a business is like being out on a limb that constantly snaps and creaks underneath you.
It was in this emotional context that I spent much of this weekend at my in-laws, largely cocooning myself with novels and knitting. Also they have a full-length mirror, something our house lacks. Between the cocoon and the reflection, I came to a place of clarity:
I can't try to get pregnant again until I am at or below my pre-pregnancy weight. This was something I achieved 10 days after giving birth, but not in a happy way since those of you following this story know that Z. was hospitalized for 7 of those 10 days--now I'm back to about 10 pounds over pre-pregnancy and a full 60 pounds over anything like my ideal weight. Add 25-30 pounds of pregnancy on top of that? No.
And I can't try to get pregnant again until I'm confident it won't bankrupt us and destroy the store.
We've been talking about inseminating again this summer. The plan was to try again after Z. turned 2, and here she is, 2. Our donor was game when we brought it up last fall, but he teaches and wanted to wait for summer. The past few months I've been sorta charting, and starting to identify, though distantly, with moms pregnant with baby #2. But getting back on that 2 weeks on/2 weeks off merry-go-round felt like an ominous thing looming over me. Given the circumstances of Z.'s birth, beginning another pregnancy will require a leap of faith no matter when we start.
So I got it--now is not the time. 2007 is not the year. I have some worries about putting it off--36 is more fertile than 37, and somehow 3 seems a better age for a first sibling than 4--but those are sort of theoretical worries. Mostly I feel like I've given myself enough time to take care of myself, physically, and to have a holiday season that doesn't need to get plowed back into capital improvements.
I'm trying to take a lesson to heart about not making commitments before you have everything in hand you need to honor them.
Wednesday, March 7, 2007
Tired Day
Z. woke up this morning and even though she told me "I don't wanna go to school. I wanna stay home and take a nap," she was fine as long as she was in her pajamas. She objected strenuously to me trying to put jeans on her, but relented when I replaced her pajama pants, so I let her eat breakfast in her pj's. This meant a return trip upstairs but we had time to spare--until she fought me on the jeans again. And on her shirt. (She claimed it was too tight. It's a size 6. She's at most a 3T.) She didn't want to do anything. She wanted Puppy Pie. I told her it was nap time just to see what would happen (it was 8:30am and she'd been up 2 hours) and she lay down immediately, but didn't sleep. I sang our sleepy songs. She didn't sleep but was increasingly cranky. She got up in tears and said "I wanna go to school, I wanna see my teachers." At 10 past 9 I called school and told them she was staying home. She immediately curled into my lap and I basically ignored her until she fell asleep at around quarter of 10. She wasn't awake again until 1:15.
Now, the problem with this is that I had her home on Monday, I made Tuesday a reading day/recovery from birthday exertions day, and tomorrow is my Flower Show excursion with my mother. I try to leave early on Fridays to go to my Buzz group (more on which later). So I was looking at being away from the store for almost a whole week with no preparation. Not so good.
You never know, though. While I was pottering around the house and the Internet two staffers called in sick (my manager relayed the news) and I thought we'd have to close the store until Z. woke up chipper. I said "You're awake!" She said "I'm all better now!" Her language astonishes me. I think she had to sleep so long because more of her language centers were coming online. She told me "I really, really need to go to school." This time when I explained that at school they were mid-nap and she needed to eat lunch she didn't flip, so she really was all better now. She wanted to make snowprints, so after she shoveled half of our pantry into her little belly, I packed her into her snow things and we stomped and dug in the snow, then went to the store. A. turned up and took Z. along to her (A.'s) chiropractor appointment, so I could take over at the register. So you never know how the day will turn out.
It wasn't a whole lot of time, but I did manage to look over the message book, prepare a PO for the distributor, and grab some bills that need paying. On the down side, we didn't break $100 today, which always leaves me wondering what the heck I think I'm doing.
Now, the problem with this is that I had her home on Monday, I made Tuesday a reading day/recovery from birthday exertions day, and tomorrow is my Flower Show excursion with my mother. I try to leave early on Fridays to go to my Buzz group (more on which later). So I was looking at being away from the store for almost a whole week with no preparation. Not so good.
You never know, though. While I was pottering around the house and the Internet two staffers called in sick (my manager relayed the news) and I thought we'd have to close the store until Z. woke up chipper. I said "You're awake!" She said "I'm all better now!" Her language astonishes me. I think she had to sleep so long because more of her language centers were coming online. She told me "I really, really need to go to school." This time when I explained that at school they were mid-nap and she needed to eat lunch she didn't flip, so she really was all better now. She wanted to make snowprints, so after she shoveled half of our pantry into her little belly, I packed her into her snow things and we stomped and dug in the snow, then went to the store. A. turned up and took Z. along to her (A.'s) chiropractor appointment, so I could take over at the register. So you never know how the day will turn out.
It wasn't a whole lot of time, but I did manage to look over the message book, prepare a PO for the distributor, and grab some bills that need paying. On the down side, we didn't break $100 today, which always leaves me wondering what the heck I think I'm doing.
Friday, March 2, 2007
Paying the rent
And on a completely different topic:
Just checked our bank accounts. The automatic deduction for our commercial mortgage cleared, yet we have $10 more in our savings account that we did a few days ago. Why? Because this year the store is paying its rent every month. In 2006 I mostly postponed rent til the end of the year and was very sloppy about keeping track, but I think, overall, a few months of rent got "forgiven:" we just plain carried the store on that front. Which isn't really fair to A. since we co-own the building but the store is officially my investment, but not paying me feels unfair to A., too. I don't know why I decided that rent was more of a priority than paying myself -- no, I do know. It would make me feel better to pay myself, but it will mean more money for our family from month to month if the store pays rent. I'm not good enough at taxes--in fact I am tax phobic--to know what would be better in the long run, but right now we are a month-to-month household anyhow. Also, it seems to me that not paying rent is an unfair advantage over other start-ups that was reasonable to use in the first year but now I need to have a more realistic picture of the cash flow. Not paying the owner for years on end, on the other hand, appears to be completely standard practice for start-ups.
This would all be financially easier if I were married to an investment banker, I guess, but it would be a lot harder if A. had decided to open a store and I had decided to stick with teaching, A. being a public school teacher, S. having been a private school teacher. What a difference a union makes.
Just checked our bank accounts. The automatic deduction for our commercial mortgage cleared, yet we have $10 more in our savings account that we did a few days ago. Why? Because this year the store is paying its rent every month. In 2006 I mostly postponed rent til the end of the year and was very sloppy about keeping track, but I think, overall, a few months of rent got "forgiven:" we just plain carried the store on that front. Which isn't really fair to A. since we co-own the building but the store is officially my investment, but not paying me feels unfair to A., too. I don't know why I decided that rent was more of a priority than paying myself -- no, I do know. It would make me feel better to pay myself, but it will mean more money for our family from month to month if the store pays rent. I'm not good enough at taxes--in fact I am tax phobic--to know what would be better in the long run, but right now we are a month-to-month household anyhow. Also, it seems to me that not paying rent is an unfair advantage over other start-ups that was reasonable to use in the first year but now I need to have a more realistic picture of the cash flow. Not paying the owner for years on end, on the other hand, appears to be completely standard practice for start-ups.
This would all be financially easier if I were married to an investment banker, I guess, but it would be a lot harder if A. had decided to open a store and I had decided to stick with teaching, A. being a public school teacher, S. having been a private school teacher. What a difference a union makes.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Snow Day
Z. and A. were home from their respective schools today, both full of glee. We had a weekend-y breakfast with no food dumping and I headed off to open the store late. Late b/c my staff was snowed in and I hadn't expected to be on the register today, but I don't think we missed much. No one's out early on a snow day.
Staffing the store alone was actually kind of calm and centering. It's my brainchild, but I don't often get it to myself. My feet are tired from all the standing and it would have been better if I had a real lunch break, but we had more foot traffic than I thought and I managed to get some more office-y tasks off my list even at the register. The customers who did come in were also very cheerful and appreciative. Snow can do that--create a sense of camaraderie and festivity.
Credit where credit is due department: We had a very valiant author who hauled herself up here in the sleet and everything else last night only to have no audience show up, despite the lovely blurb our local weekly gave her. Snow is like that. Her book is really interesting and is worth looking at--all you folks in my non-existent audience should check it out:Erzulie's Skirt by Ana-Maurine Lara.
Staffing the store alone was actually kind of calm and centering. It's my brainchild, but I don't often get it to myself. My feet are tired from all the standing and it would have been better if I had a real lunch break, but we had more foot traffic than I thought and I managed to get some more office-y tasks off my list even at the register. The customers who did come in were also very cheerful and appreciative. Snow can do that--create a sense of camaraderie and festivity.
Credit where credit is due department: We had a very valiant author who hauled herself up here in the sleet and everything else last night only to have no audience show up, despite the lovely blurb our local weekly gave her. Snow is like that. Her book is really interesting and is worth looking at--all you folks in my non-existent audience should check it out:Erzulie's Skirt by Ana-Maurine Lara.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
