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This is me… freaking out.

September 21st, 2010

Oi vey.  Wanna talk about frustration? Grab someone like me, who sucks at research as it is, and toss them into a bunch of governmental websites obviously written by people who know the law, but have never actually had to go through with figuring out how to follow it, and see just how quickly I lose interest in figuring out how to go about licensing my business.

Maybe today I’ll look at store layouts and carts instead.  Though I’m pretty sure one of the geeks who will be handling the technical side (As if I have this giant team.  There are two.  Two net geeks totally willing to work for free, because they rock, and they luffs me muchly.  We’ll not mention that one of them is my husband, which is why I didn’t flat out tell the other no.  M hardly has time for stuff as it is!) has an idea for a cart he’s used before and likes. 

Aha! New York has a great many resources for small business startups, and even some extra special resources just for small business startups owned by women, minorities and people with disabilities.  Guess who’s gonna be in hog heaven when she gets up enough courage to call and make an appointment for a free (You read right.  Free! And just a block away, so I can walk there if I want to.) consultation with a business advisor.  I’m not sure it can get much better than this.

M, ever the pessimist “realist”, keeps pointing out the many hurdles we’re going to have to leap to get this done.  Like… money, for example.  And my short attention span.  And my absolute terror of failure.  And the extra stress.  And the fact that I’m putting off calling anyone until tomorrow because I am scared to death of making a fool of myself have to make a list of questions.

My chest feels like it’s going to explode, and I think I might cry.  I’ve counted all my chicks, and I don’t even have the damn basket yet.  Wait… that’s two different warnings, huh? But I guess they mean the same thing, essentially.  I mean, maybe not the exact same thing, but close enough for government work, as Dad always said.

Shut up, it is, too.

I’m realizing, as I’m making my list, that I have a tendency to start on Task H, then move back to Task B, then move forward to Task P, and then stop working altogether, sit back and wonder why I’m overwhelmed and frustrated.

I guess that’s evident in my writing, too.  I tend to be all over the place.

I’m not letting the long road ahead of me and the fear of failure stop me this time.  I’m not giving up.  I’ll figure out how to attain this dream, one way or another.  The New York State government appears eager to help.  So, I think I’ll take advantage of that while I have the opportunity.  The only failure, at this point, is not at least looking into my options.  I think.  Maybe.

God damn it, I hate when people don’t answer the phone, and you’re not used to the touch screen, and you say something like “I told you! He’s not answering the fucking phone.”, all irritated like, cause you didn’t want to call the second time in the first place, but the only part you said after the beep was “He’s not answering the fucking phone!”, and you thought you hung it up, but really all you did was hit the home button.

I’m looking at you, iPhone.  You suck ass.

Maybe he won’t check his voicemail.  Or if he does, he’ll be intelligent enough to know I was irritated about making the second call, not him not answering the phone.  Or… something.

Jesus, I worry too much.

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