I Have Been Waiting For This
I wish I were announcing that you can purchase Just Cured’s smoked salmon. Please be patient; that announcement is coming soon. Instead, the reality of opening for business struck me this week. And it hit me with a force that I had never imagined.
I knew that day would come; I have been expecting it since the day I made my decision to start Just Cured. In my very first post, I hinted about some reservations I was having. You see, my legal practice was always a collaborative effort. At a minimum it was a lawyer working with a client to achieve the clients goals. At the maximum, it was a team of lawyers working with teams of clients, investment bankers, accountants, advisors and sundry others to achieve similar goals.
There are huge differences between my former legal practice and Just Cured. Today, the responsibility for success or failure is mine. As Harry Truman said, “the buck stops here.” In days past, I never deluded myself that a client’s success was mine, and I always understood the difference between the client’s success and my successfully executing my supporting role. As strange as it may first seem, it was possible for the lawyer to achieve a successful result that ultimately was contrary to the client’s interests. Today, there is no such distinction — there is only success or failure, and my actions will determine which it will be.
I have always known my responsibility for the business at an intellectual level, and I struggled emotionally with going into this business as I was deciding to turn my life upside down. But after months of working to get Just Cured off the ground, the realities of what I am doing came crashing upon me simultaneously.
And I felt alone. Not a quiet room with a book or music playing alone — stranded on a deserted island with no options kind of alone. My episode didn’t last long, but it was brutal while it did. An early morning phone call from a dear friend made me understand I was not so alone. Two late morning calls from my wife who had picked up my tone earlier followed by lunch with her pushed my loneliness far away.
Why did this happen just now? I wish I knew exactly why. If I did, I could probably prevent its occurring again. I am going to attribute it to the events of this week. I was taking delivery of some production equipment that day. I need to make final decisions on branding and logos this week. I also need to order this week the most expensive piece of equipment Just Cured will need. I really want to be in limited production within the next ten days or so, and there are hundreds of little things that I have to accomplish for that to become a reality. My weekend reading on the state of the economy didn’t help much either. Just Cured is starting up with consumer confidence at record lows, the lowest in 35 years by some measures.
Today, I have all my demons safely locked away. Today, I will complete the work-around I spent the night thinking about to deal with the equipment that wouldn’t install in the location I had planned. Today, I will commit to the branding concept I like the best. Today, I will smile about the email that arrived as I wrote this paragraph from a friend and former colleague (another girl with terrific instincts) just asking how I am.
Today, I will revel in my responsibility for Just Cured — and in not being alone.
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You are going through every natural ebb and flow of starting a business of your own. You have many supporters, I can tell. And because you do, you are still the lone business proprietor, but you are very definitely not alone. Good luck!
Comment by g — May 8, 2008 @ 9:27 pm
Michael, I feel ya. (sorry — watching too much “The Wire” will do that to the speech patterns.) Started my first business in 1990 with what I thought was everything lined up nice and neat. Then reality hit, and then the U.S. bombed Baghdad. Good Lord. I felt just as you describe, but soldiered on as I know you will. Had lots of people with faith in me, and even though I *felt* alone, I knew I wasn’t. And that economy made a tight market even tighter, but I hung through it.
Every heard of Phil Joanou — the elder, the dad of the director? He was with an ad agency that did campaigns for the company Mr. Fabby worked for in the late 80s/early 90s. One day at the winery, I was introduced to him and he said, “Oh, Fabby the Food Queen! Word is, business is going well — how do you think it’s going?” I said, “what? This is good? I have stress fractures in my teeth and a hole the size of a golf ball in my stomach. I must have been out of my mind — this economy is killing me.” He said, “but it’s a good thing — you know how to work lean. This will help you in the long run, because the economy won’t always be bad. When it gets good, you’ll be ready. The people who start out fat are the ones who can’t handle the downturns. Downturns come and go, but the people who know how to ride them will always come out of it okay. Whatever you do, don’t stop.”
I have no doubt he forgot this conversation immediately. I never forgot it, even nearly 20 years later.
The fact that you feel the responsibility and accept it is a good thing. My online psychiatric fee is $.05. I take Paypal
Comment by Fabby — May 9, 2008 @ 8:51 am
g and Fabby, Thank you both for your kind words. It is particularly fitting that you both commented side-by-side on this particular post. To say that I appreciate your support is a gross understatement.
MB
Comment by Michael — May 9, 2008 @ 2:23 pm