Some Side Effects of Opening a Restaurant

Maureen says:

You Stop Eating Out. You're broke, you're exhausted and most restaurants are closed by the time you get around to eating, if that time ever comes at all. Besides, any place you could go, you won't relax anyway. You'll be too busy guessing what font the menu is printed in, gauging the space between tables and debating the merits of providing individual specials sheets or having servers recite them instead of enjoying your meal. Probably you're going to be doing something like that anyway, so you might as well do it at home over a nice bowl of cereal.

You Lose Your Will to Live. Okay, you still want to live, it's just that when you finally call it a day, the will to do nothing but sit on your ass comes pretty close to trumping everything else, with the only reason to get up off the couch being to get another glass of wine. The solution is to keep the bottle with you, preferably within easy reach. If it's been a particularly trying day, bring a backup bottle. It's likely you're wearing the wine opener on a chain around your neck by now anyway.

No Matter How Much Laundry You Do, There Are Always Two Loads Waiting to Be Done. Who knew? While some of the volume can be attributed to the seasonal need to dress in layers, mostly it's the dirt. This polymathic business partner of mine not performs general contractor duties, but quite often, acts as a contractor himself and comes home filthy, sometimes to the point of disgust. So much for the energy-conserving practice of getting two wearings out of various items of clothing.

You Look Forward to Trips to Certain Box Stores. For things like toilet paper, cat litter, laundry detergent, Method household cleaners, dish soap, shampoo, razor cartridges and garbage bags. I never knew parting with a couple of C-notes at the home of the bull's eye would fill me with such joy, but it does. If I'm spending that much money there at once, it means I don't have to go back for another three months.

Your Listening Skills Improve. You're not only in want of break in living/breathing/talking about your endeavor, you need one. Consequently, you listen to the goings on in the lives of friends and family with heightened interest. I mean really listen. Not the sort of pretend listening where you're really just waiting for a break in conversation so you can jump in with the next thing you want to say. Active listening. And you realize that everyone's got their own version opening a restaurant happening in their lives. And okay, whatever--kumbaya--we're all in this crazy thing called life together, marching to our personal drum beats and making our own kind of music. So you put down your wine glass, get up off your ass and do the damned laundry. You write a blog post. You call it a night.