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Las Vegas, Nevada, United States
"No, really!"

My Favorite Bit of Paper Cup Philosophy

The Way I See It #76

The irony of commitment is that it's deeply liberating - in work, in play, in love. The act frees you from the tyranny of your internal critic, from the fear that likes to dress itself up and parade around as rational hesitation. To commit is to remove your head as the barrier to your life.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Bad Juju

I've been feeling pretty blechhhh. Monsoon season is the worst kind of juju for carpet cleaners. Funny - cloudy gray skies make the phones stop ringing. No phones, no new jobs. When it's sticky and wet outside, most people don't want to invite a company in to put water on their carpets. Our TV personalities love to report "Rain is on the way,folks. Stay tuned!" Well, yes, technically it is rain. 47 drops across the entire valley. While we made a good deal of money last week, it was not a good one for booking new jobs. This week we've had to give each of the technicians a day off. That day off is not considered a gift. "Do the phone dance, Limes!" "Dancin' , home dudes, but it's not working." We're on pace for a break-even month. Better than going in the hole. David may not pay himself this month. I detest that. My reporting on percentage of business regained over the month before . . . will be a fizzle.

Last night I went for the haircut. Christine is a really interesting and bright woman from Germany. I griped about not scaring up enough new business. She said, "Oh, it's the same for us here at the salon. We're really slow." Then she asked me to walk to the door with her. The salon is located at a busy intersection with a shopping center on each of the four corners. "Look all around. What do you see?" Having walked for miles yesterday, worked a lot of hours, and now messing around at the salon, I wasn't in the mood for guessing games. I also detest getting undressed for a haircut and wearing the gown she insists on, and I don't want to stand at the front door in it. "I don't know, what?" "Four shopping centers with no cars in the parking lots. Nobody's out. Nobody's spending." She's right. Everyone seems holed up at home.

This morning as I shared this observation with home dudes, Troy said, "The streets even seem to have fewer cars on the road." He's right - they do.

A few of my favored bloggers have withered up and seemingly died on the vine. I miss them.

Last night I blew up a second Ferrari computer and will have only the BlackBerry to sustain me for a couple of days. I wonder if it's the way I'm driving them?

By the time I sent my reduced band of warriors out on a pitiful number of jobs for the day and sat in the silence, I could have worked myself into a real slump. It was then that I realized the silence wasn't silent. Bloomsbury Bird and Benson Bird were really going at it this morning. These two were vocal, loud and persistent. I stood up to really look at them and they were jumping from perch to perch in their home. The only word I can apply is "joy". They jumped for joy and sang a tune to it. Pretty soon I was grinning. Then I laughed out loud at them. They do not share a thimble full of brains, but they can express joy at being placed in a sunny window, fresh water in their dish and good bird feed.

Sat back down and felt a little better. The BlackBerry announced an e-mail and there was Mother Badger. She was chatty, interesting and flattering after having read the blogs. She had much to say. It made me feel much better.

A friend e-mailed me an article that I needed to receive today: the short version is "take the time you spend complaining about things and do something to correct those things." Oh, yeah. That's good.

When business is lagging, David and I talk about it. He never freaks out. He has built such a good foundation for us that we're strong enough to withstand some down times. We reduced enough expenses last fall after the crash that we're pretty efficient and streamlined. He pokes a little fun my way to ease tension, "Limes, you're a little off your game." "Sir, if the phones will jangle, I will book jobs. Remember my batting average."

When David left this afternoon, Cesar and I were chatting. David said, as he always does, "Let's come back tomorrow and try it again. Let's do it as right as we do it. Have a good evening. Be safe." OK, then. Just come back and try again. I'll be here. That's how we roll.

In my ears right now: Bloomsbury and Benson still at it in full cry.

Something that charmed me: Mother Badger made a hilarious comment on e-mail and said, "Don't you dare blog that!" Now, I'm a woman who always wants to go for the laugh. But for Mother Badger . . . . I'll refrain.


  1. How scary can she be? Really? As bad as a ...Honey Badger?

    Well, OK, you've got a point there.

  2. Actually, Badger, I'm not motivated by fear, but by fondness and respect. However, I wager she could snap the head from a cobra in one bite like your pretty disgusting honey badger You Tube. I bet she could make an 8-year-old third grader tremble in his P.F. Flyers!