The sour tang of a Vitamin C pill clashes horrifically with dark roast coffee. My coffee is especially dark roast, if that’s even a thing, because I use exactly twice as much coffee grounds as the recommended serving on the can. This is so I can taste the bitter black liquid as it slithers down into the depths of my soul each morning.
Okay, that was a bit much.
It’s been so long since I wrote on here, I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. It was the stillness of the tree outside my living room window that did it. The sunlight slipping through its leaves, playing peekaboo with me. Distracting my brain from its usual Sunday morning thoughts. That’s what drew me in. I was noncommittally toying with the idea of going for a walk when the thought occurred to me. I haven’t wrote, haven’t even looked at the blog, in months.
I am chewing down Vitamin C because Sophie has a killer flu bug. Not actually killer, to clarify. There is no apocalyptic flu bug going around or anything. Not that I know of at least. Nevertheless, I can see it as it envelops our home despite my ravenous cleaning and disinfecting. I am at the point now of attempting to ward it off by pure mental willpower. The way I used to try to move pencils in math class with nothing other than the raw power of my brain. It never worked then but I suspect my brain is more powerful now, as an adult, so now I should be able to accomplish something in this department. Even if it is just that of me catching a slightly less awful strain of the bug.
The truth of it is, I cannot get sick. Not now. Before, like three weeks ago, it would have been passable to come down with a bug. We have our employee Cam who could have covered my shift at the panini factory. We would have been able to deal. In fact we have dealt with this exact scenario because I have a shit immune system and catch basically everything that goes around.
I can’t get sick anymore however. The ‘ol immune system is going to have to shape up or…Well, I guess I don’t want it to ship out, there’s no way that having no immune system would be better than have a shitty immune system. So it’s just going to have to shape up. End of story. I will start eating more vegetables and drinking more water. My mom tells me this is the answer to basically all of life’s problems. And she is typically quite knowledgeable on these types of things.
The reason I cannot get sick is because we are opening a second store location. We are aren’t doing this in the typical, hire more staff and be completely prepared for the extra work load, type of way. Oh no. We are opening a second location, continuing to run with three people and hoping to make a boat load of cash in the process. A “boat load” is an overstatement. A gross overstatement. What we are really hoping to do is secure our business so that eventually we can hire enough staff to run the floor and Jamie and I can actually do owner stuff. Well, that’s an exaggeration too. Honestly guys, who knows what we want out of this thing. I’m pretty sure all of the glutinous flour I work with on a daily basis has begun to clog my braintubes (braintubes is most definitely a thing, despite what spellcheck, and perhaps science, tells me). All I really know is that we need to grow our business so it becomes something of value. Yeah, yeah, it is sentimentally valuable right now, but sentimentality ‘aint shit when thinking about the future. But I guess it sort of is in the grand scheme of things….But not in this scenario. Just stay with me here guys.
Still there? Awesome.
When Jamie and I dream of someday we are sitting in a mansion that we have built with our franchised panini money, sipping cocktails while I write my memoirs and he creates miniature models of specific points in history which he will display in his football field sized miniatures museum he constructed after selling the restaurant. We laugh and laugh at how difficult life used to be with memories that are hazy because if we were to really reminisce about the trials of yesteryear we would be in a constant state of manic depression.
Sometimes we dream that we build a blimp hotel and travel around the world at a brisk 60 mph while whisking our patrons off to their various destinations in aviation heaven.
Most times, however, we simply dream about simplicity. About having the ability to go on vacation with our kids without having to worry about a store to look after. We dream about taking the day off work to volunteer on a school field trip. We dream about lying in bed all day, worrying of nothing. Nothing at all.
Alas, we tried this life once, and dreamt of the life we are currently living. Which is exactly how we arrived here. So clearly we are physically unable to be happy with anything (unless it involves owning a blimp hotel). We are obsessed with the idea that there is something else out there for us to achieve. Something amazing to explore around the next bend. Perhaps, we will never learn.
I have come to the conclusion that the real key to living happy is to somehow merge these two fantasises. And this, my friends, is the meaning of life. Boom. You’re welcome. And we are trying to achieve it. The kids have begun to help us at the shop. We show them the ropes and so far, they swing from them joyously. Lars is great with customers and talks their ear off while Sophie is happy to help in the baking department when given the chance. I took them to see the new café yesterday and they both immediately began to make plans of how they would be involved in this new place.
So maybe our life is not the typical one of a growing family. Maybe we are a bit more complicated. Maybe a bit unconventional. At times I worry about the kids and I wonder if they would be happier if given a different life. I wonder if they are okay. Then I look at them. Like, really study them. They then look at me like I’m a crazy person but quickly sluff it off because I am forever doing strange things like this.
I see Sophie and her artwork. The artwork that she has honed in and made her own over hours of drawing weird and wonderful pictures from the two seater table of a sandwich shop. And I see Lars and his genuine and lovely and kind personality. His empathy and outgoing nature towards any other human being continues to astound me.
I will write little blurbs on this blog when the muse takes me and Jamie will continue to craft miniature models from the paint speckled table in our living room while we binge watch bad Netflix originals. We will take mini vacations to the mountains when the stars have aligned and we find ourselves with two consecutive days off work. We will enjoy backyard bbq’s and watch as the kids swim in the pool and scream out in unabashed joy when the water is too cold to bear. We will find joy in the time spent together, even when together is at the shop showing our children how to talk to customers and make bundt cakes.
I see the pride the kids have in our little sandwich shop when they tell perfect strangers about The Hot Wire Panini and they call it “their shop”, “their restaurant” and I realise that maybe our life isn’t cookie cutter perfect but it is our perfect. Our right now perfect. And just like all things, it will evolve and grow with us, and that will be perfect too.