One Week Old Today

Maureen says:
You're stuck with me for a while as, unlike Tom, I've caught my breath. At least for today anyway. And today, Z is one week old. Last week, I asked one of our senior staffers if it was always going to be this hard (we weren't open yet). She promised me it wouldn't be and I didn't believe her. But you know what? She was right. I'm not saying the hardest part is over, but the bone-crushing sense of urgency is fading fast.

What's Changed Since We Opened:

• The flow of money as it pertains to the operating account is now bi-directional. We quickly grew used to watching our funds dwindle and drain and were painfully aware that what money we had was all the money we had, so it gave us pause when we saw the credit card deposits hit the account. Money coming in. Whatdya know?
• Tom remembered just how many people he knows here. Customers from restaurants he worked at in days gone by have been coming in for dinner, cocktails, conversation. I've loved meeting them all; Manchester is still new to me and I, myself, don't know many people in the area (I'm from Massachusetts and my social network resides there still). I think that's the sound of roots being put down that I hear.
• We know who most of our blog readers are now because a good many of you have been stopping by to introduce yourselves. This has been big fun for me because in some small way it feels like you've been on the journey with us. Just re-reading that last sentence sort of makes me want to gag, but I'm being sincere here. The rest of y'all should come in and say hello.
• Inclement weather is no longer a prompt to stay in pajamas and slow the pace down. Now, it calls mind to the potential impact such weather can have on business like ours. Restaurateur friends of ours still don't want to talk about what they lost to the Valentine's Day storm. I don't blame them.
• We are out of laundry detergent, but not yet out of clean clothes (note: it is rare as snow in Apr....nevermind...let's just say I run a tight ship and we don't run out of anything, ever. You know, until now). This pleases the cats because at the end of each day, they are far more interested in the food smells we bring home than they are in us. They're not as pleased as they would be if we brought home leftover chicken, duck or chopped steak, but seriously. They'll survive.
• I haven't knit a stitch in weeks. Weeks! You don't care. I know. But ask Tom. I'm much nicer to live with when I don't have orphaned socks in my knitting bag, crying for their unborn mates.
• We love our DVR even more than we thought possible. We just hope it can hold everything we'd like it to until July.
• Z is no longer a dream deferred, but a dream manifested. The road ahead is long, but hey: we're walking on it.