I swear, I had no idea this business-starting thing sucked the life right out of a person. I’ve known business owners before, and they didn’t seem to be walking zombies, so maybe it’s just me.

All the time, I’m worrying things in my head. Three flavors of insurance, hiring backup, training backup, ohmygod I’m never going to get another day off.

I’m writing mental lists of things that need to be done and bought. I’m bleeding money, and it’s not like I have a lot to bleed.

Every time one thing clicks into place the hydra laughs at me and flings seven more my way. The water gods are pulling oddball stuff out of their asses just to mess with me now; the diesel generator’s gone bad? There’s no reason for that! What the hell?

I have no humor left in me, and so help me, I have a date Friday. That poor guy’s going to be completely underwhelmed and wonder if he somewhere picked up a mummy or possibly a med-school cadaver by accident.

I’m not writing, because all I have to write about is this crap, and even in my formaldehyded state, I can recognize that nobody really wants to hear all of this. If you happen to also be addled enough to try this, drop me an email and I’ll fill your box with horror.

I need to go out and have fun, and I don’t know if I can let it go. I don’t know if I’ll be able to let it go for much of the first year. When they say that a business owns you, not the other way around? Oh. This is what they meant. What in the hell am I doing?

But with all that, it’s still going well. I’m going to kick ass; I’m just not going to be very funny doing it.