Monday

(In view of the current circumstances, and taking into consideration my obvious lack of interesting things to say in any case, I've decided to take "Coming to Terms" in a different direction for a while. I'm going to fire off ten-to-fifteen minute stream-of-consciosness entries every day (or so) just so I can oil the works a bit. Might as well go back to using my scribbling as personal psycho-therapy, since it doesn't seem to be serving any other purpose these days...)

Woke up this morning in a peculiar state of mind. I’m getting signals from the Universe that rest time is over. Not that I have been lying around the house doing absolutely nothing…but after five years of never having a truly restful moment, that is what it has felt like. Now I have to motivate myself in the direction of earning a living…this month’s financial mini-crisis sealed that fate. I’m petrified, really. The concept of a job search scares the hell out of me on so many levels.

1.) I’m probably too old to get a job. In a job market like this one, someone my age would be fortunate to land ANY job. And I know I don’t want just ANY job. I also know I have no desire whatever to go anywhere near the field I have been in for the past five years.

2.) My resume is crap. It was crap six years ago, actually… One of the reasons I decided I needed to have my own business. I find it kind of ironic. I know I would be a better quality employee than any of the people I managed to scrape together to man my own business. But I also know that there would be no way to convince a potential employer of that. And I am lacking the self-confidence it would take to aggressively sell my skills to someone.

3.) About that self-confidence…hard to muster when your most recent experience was a spectacular, 60-month-long crash and burn at the thing you thought you should have in the bag. A job search without self-confidence is not an endeavor destined for success.

4.) I may actually BE too old to learn NEW tricks.

So I’m starting to try on the idea of getting the concession business up and running again. It’s probably my best bet for bringing in money…or at least creating cash flow. But I have to say, there are things about it that remind me waaaay too much of owning the café. The customer service part, for instance. I SOOOO hate customers. I suppose I can take comfort in the fact that at least they’re not likely to run to the internet and pen scathing reviews of a festival food booth. And even if they did, I don’t know of too many festival-goers who check "yelp" before choosing a place to eat at such events.

It’s been five months since we wrapped up our Scandinavian Festival, and I began my R & R in earnest. Seems like a long time. Or at least an adequate time. But I’m still feeling weak and bruised and timid. Especially when I’m feeling the barrel of that “you need the money” gun pressing at my temple. Kind of a crappy way to start a week.