Making Lemonade, and Other Entrepreneurial Pursuits

I'm two weeks out of my vacation, and I can't seem to shake vacation mode. I thought that a vacation would recharge my batteries, and bypass some major burnout. Instead, it has made crystal clear the fact that my current work situation is not working for me.

I want to be my own boss. I want to call the shots, and plan my daily work around what matters most -- and works best -- for me. Not for anyone else.

When I was a kid, I was the neighborhood entrepreneur. I bought candy from the ice cream man and pulled it around in my Radio Flyer wagon, selling it to the neighborhood kids at a huge mark-up (I made a killing on that venture, until someone found my stash of cash buried in the pachysandras in the front yard). My best friend at the time (and partner in crime) and I established our own book and video rental store in his garage, our very own Blockbuster before there was a Blockbuster. We put on plays and charged for tickets. We sold lemonade, which one neighbor claimed tasted like...well, she didn't like it and as a result set her son up with a lemonade stand of his own across the street, setting off the Great Lemonade War of 1982 and putting us both out of business before the day was over. We even sold raffle tickets for a quarter apiece (or five for a dollar), a chance to win lame prizes like a yarn doll or a deck of Uno cards (I broke a glass vase in one neighbor's foyer, and was forced to give her five tickets for free).

Back then, when it came to that kind of thing, I was fearless. Today, not so much. And that's why I'm adding it to my bucket list.

There are three big reasons for my fear:
1) I am seriously uncomfortable with the idea of not getting a regular paycheck. I like being able to predict when the money is coming in, and how much. Without that steady paycheck, life is a roller coaster ride of ups and downs, and that's scary as hell. We have bills to pay, for crying out loud! Then again, there is a certain thrill that comes with riding that roller coaster...and there is a part of me that needs that thrill, as well. (Not to mention the fact that in all reality, my paychecks have not been all that regular or predictable these past few months.)
2) I have a hard time talking about myself, and what I am doing (see my last blog). I make my living in public relations and marketing, but I can't market myself. The bottom line is that I worry too much about what other people think of me, and about whether they care about what I have to say.
3) Finally, I fear failure. (This seems to be a recurring theme, doesn't it?) I am afraid that I will try and it won't work, or I will sink myself and my family further into debt, or that the decision I made was the wrong one and I should have stuck with the sure thing. There are a million quotes on failure out there, but they all say pretty much the same thing: the only true failure is in not trying.

I know that I can't just up and quit my job tomorrow; that would be irresponsible. But I have set in motion some serious plans to extricate myself from "the man" and start living the work life that I want to live. Stay tuned!

Leaving My Footprint on the World

I was reminded of two things last night: one, that there are people out there actually reading this thing (thanks!), and two, that writing this blog is really something that belongs on my bucket list. As it was pointed out to me that I really hang myself out here, I realized that all this time I've been pouring my heart out, opening up, and letting people get to know me -- something that I have always had a hard time doing "in real life".

Interestingly, it made me want to write here more.

I've always been reluctant to open up and talk about myself. It's the over-thinking thing again. Why would they care what I have to say? What if they think what I think is stupid? What if they don't like me? In the past, it's led me to gravitate toward people who were far more interested in what they themselves had to say, which made it easy for me to retreat even more inside myself. I fooled myself into thinking that I'm "a really good listener" -- but that alone doesn't necessarily equate to being a good friend. In situations with new people, I think my reticence more often than not gives the wrong impression -- that I'm not interested in being friends, or worse, that I'm a stuck up b---- (you fill in the blank).

Even worse, it makes me forgettable. I've been painfully reminded of this fact more than once, when a friend of mine gushed about how happy she was that no one remembered who I was -- so she was able to snap me up in the softball draft. (I've been in the league for five years.) There was a time when "flying under the radar" like that seemed like a good thing; no more. I want to be remembered. I'll never leave a footprint on the world if I tiptoe through life.

I've met more people in recent years who ask me questions, who really seem to want to know what I think, who reach out constantly to invite me to things -- I really appreciate it, and I think that it has helped me to get to where I am now. But they shouldn't have to do all of the work. It's time I take the reins a bit, share without being pushed to.

This blog is a start. The next step is to take what I'm doing and learning here, and apply it in the real world. Consider it added to the bucket list.

Taking the Leap of Faith...in Myself

When I first started dating my husband, Dave, we talked a lot about our dreams, shared our philosophies on life, and laid out our goals -- all, of course, in the span of about three weeks' time as part of the intricate courtship dance, to see how and if these two lives will somehow, someday fit together. At the time -- especially being only three weeks in -- the concept of marriage, and family, was a little frightening to talk about. We called it "starting a bobsled team".

One thing Dave said, one of the many "truisms" (he made a list) that has always held true (go Dave!), was this: Your worries keep you honest; your fears hold you back.

That was nearly twelve years ago.

Recently, I was reminded of this adage and have not been able to let it go. During a long-overdue visit with my best friend (hi, Katie! We still need to schedule in that weekly call we promised, what, six weeks ago?), as we were catching up on life while jumping from jacuzzi to pool and back again, she made a very astute observation.

"See how you are inching your way into the pool? Me, I just jump in. You hesitate. That's the difference between us."

She is so right. And that halting, inch-by-inch progression to full submersion in that pool? The story of my life. That's my fear, holding me back.


I'm miserable in my job. I have ideas for at least half a dozen businesses that I have yet to start. I have dreams, I know I do -- remember back when Dave and I were dating? We talked about them all the time. At least, thank goodness, we finally started that bobsled team!




True to my character, it has taken me six weeks of hemming and hawing, negotiating, and thinking about it to finally do -- not decide to do, but do -- something about it.


Earlier this week, I started writing my first novel. (This does not count the popular seventh-grade serial The Strange Things That Happened in Room 101, or 2050: Seascape, the self-proclaimed cult hit in tenth.)

This step is a long time coming; I've wanted to write ever since that Room 101 journaling adventure in Mr. Griffith's seventh grade English class. But something has always stopped me. I now know what that something has always been: fear. The burning question is, fear of what?

The list is endless. There's the fear of criticism, which is inevitable in writing. Your work is criticized first by someone (or more) who you have to trust to give you that outside perspective as you're writing; then by agents, publishers and editors as you try to get your hard work recognized and published; then (if you're lucky) by book critics and the general public. Then there are the unknowns. What if I do this and find out that I suck at it? What if I do this and find out that I hate it? What if I get writer's block? What if I have to speak in front of a large audience? What if? What if? What if???? It's exhausting.

If some of this is a little repetitive, forgive me; I know I've blogged about it before. Which is all the more reason why I had to get off my duff and do something about it.

I'm 1,117 words in; only about 99,000 more to go.

Now that the novel is underway -- a BIG step one -- I'm starting to think about other things I'm afraid of, where my fear could be holding me back. I'm not talking about things that have major danger or death factors, like skydiving or bungee-jumping, or running with the bulls. No way in hell anyone's getting me to do any of those, so I'm not going to set myself up for failure. I'm talking about the things that, basically, my EGO is afraid of. Like, singing in public (not as part of a large group and definitely not because I'm drunk). Or, telling someone that they were right and I was wrong. Or, starting one of those businesses.

Step two is listing all of these things -- large and small. Step three will be to check them all off, one by one. Call it my bucket list, if you will. I call it my path to a better life.

What are your fears? What dreams do or did you have that you have yet to realize? What is holding you back? I encourage everyone to join me, make a list of your own. Feel free to share -- and don't be afraid, I won't bite!