Wake Up Call

I admit I have been drinking heavily every night
for five days. But this morning I am cooking hot dogs
in the last of my beer. Specifically, Oscar Mayer
"Louis Rich" Cheese Turkey Franks. For buns I'm
using potato bread. If I want my own business, I have
to do it sober.

I was just under a bit of pressure quitting my 9 to 5
job this past week. Last night I had an alcohol-
induced nightmare that I was still working for
Heinrich. In my dream Heinrich said I did not have
the authority to lick a postage stamp. Nor does
anyone else who works for him. That's a bit like it
actually was. Time to go on the wagon.

This morning I feel optimistic again. I feel like
starting half a dozen different businesses. This may
be the secret of success - keep a lot of irons in the
fire, and (mixed metaphor) one of them will hit the
jackpot. I will emulate the early immigrant who
came to America with twelve cents in his pocket,
and learned to build ... what? An empire seems
too big, a "going concern" too piddly. Sure, the
economy sucks right now, while the Republicans tell
you it smells like roses, so the rich can get fat at the
expense of a nation. But some people made
fortunes even during the Great Depression.

I started research for my first (and only) client
yesterday and it felt sooooo good.