Which I’ve had for quite some time, but it keeps being put on hold for one reason or another. The dream nearly died when we ended up in this house in 2015 and I almost buried it for another, different, dream I’ve always had (to have a small farm with chickens, goats, and other such small livestock), but that dream was extremely unrealistic and short lived because I lacked the health to carry out such a dream, and we lacked the funds to seed it.
Anyway, the dream I’ve carried around with me for many a year is to own my own business, a small, nondescript business that does well enough to pay the bills but isn’t like, famous or anything. I’m not looking to build the next McDonald’s™ here you see.
But here’s the thing. There’s a reason why I don’t work — several actually. So, around 2004, I think… I’m not good with dates… I got into a minor car accident. Which could have been a major car accident had it happened a second before (she t-boned me and hit the frame of my car instead of the door). The impact of the car accident is what doctors believe triggered my fibromyalgia. They’re not certain, but they believe it to be true. Since then, a lot of weird shit’s been happening to my body. For example, I can no longer take non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs (NSAIDs) like, Ibuprofen or Excedrin, or Aspirin. Because while they were fine before, now they give me all kinds of… interesting side effects. Which was ironic because suddenly I was in a lot more pain. >_< But the freaky weird side effects got me fired from my job. I’ve held about two jobs since then, but they were retail jobs, and I soon learned that this body is not meant for the American standard of retail jobs. Because this body isn’t meant to stand for 8 to 10 hours a day. To be fair though, I did have a boss (who was from Kuwait) who let us sit down so long as there weren’t any customers in the store, so there’s that. Too bad he can’t own any more stores anymore because he shot someone in the head for stealing a beer… but that’s a different story. The thing is, all of that standing is bad for my back, and my knees, and my body in general.
And that, dear reader, is where my silly dream comes to play. See, I actually enjoyed working retail and I enjoyed the bit of management that I did while working retail, and while I’m not great with numbers, I think I might could manage them enough to not run me into the ground — besides, there’s good bookkeeping software out there now that really helps with that kind of thing, and I can have Doug look over things once a month. Right? So my dream is to have a storefront. Just a small one. A storefront, in this case is a mixed zoned building where one can live in the same building as one works. Like this:
That’s a building I found browsing the Colorado Craigslist yesterday. It’s a bit small for Doug’s taste, and a tiny bit out of our price range, but it’s almost exactly what I’m looking for. Like, without seeing it in person, I would say it just about fits the bill perfectly. Of course, it almost certainly won’t be available in a year when we move, but yeah, I like it. This is what I’m looking for because whatever we buy has to cost as much as any house we’d purchase without a storefront because we’re not going to have any investors in my little dream — except Doug. He’s my investor. My angel if you will. Because, as he pointed out, this is my dream, not his. 😛 He’s happy to live in a storefront so long as he has his nerd cave, but he so doesn’t want to be a part of the store. I’m cool with that. Anyway, we have to be able to live in whatever building we buy fairly comfortably until I can stock the store and open the doors. And, given my disabilities, that might take anywhere from weeks, to months, to a year. You know? I could open with a few things, and just keep stocking as I go along, I’ve heard of people doing that. But I won’t know until faced with the situation.
The kind of store I want to open has never changed. I like repurposing things. For example, I like taking old sweaters and harvesting them for their yarn (or felting them). I did that in New Mexico and sold a few of the the skeins at a couple of places. I didn’t make a lot, but I’ve learned a few things since then. I’ve totally honed my yarn harvesting skills. ^_^ And I think I’ve learned a thing or two about packaging to make things look a bit more — attractive. But anyway, my idea has always been to have a thrift store, but for repurposed stuff, like that yarn. I mean, it doesn’t take much to harvest it, and I can get the sweaters for not much money so I can sell the yarn for pretty cheap. and I can sell the buttons, beads and do-dads from the sweaters for cheap too. The sweaters that can’t be harvested can be felted (if they’re wool) and I can sell the felt for cheap too. There’s all kinds of thing that can be sold like old jeans that have been disassembled — denim is great for many things but some people don’t have the time or inclination to tear it apart. You know? I figure I can do things like harvest sweaters and disassemble jeans on my downtime — when there’s no customers in the store. And I will damned well sit down whenever I want to because if I own the store, then I’m the boss, and screw American conventions of retail workers not sitting down. That’s just stupid. If customers don’t like it, they’re free to leave. This body cannot stand up for eight hours a day, and that’s just that.
So anyway, I’ve been dreaming about this for as long as I can remember, way before my car accident and long before I ever met Doug. I just never had the time or the means to even think about doing it. Doug and I kinda sorta looked into properties when we first moved to the Seattle area, but every commercial property here is plated in gold and well out of our price range, even out here in the relative boonies. We don’t want to lease a property because we have the furbabies and they’ll be coming with us (staying in the living area of course). I can say with absolute positivity that we wouldn’t be allowed to bring three dogs and a cat into a lease situation. But we’re not giving up the furbabies. That’s just not happening.
In other news, my cough is back. I think that’s how it’s gonna be for awhile, feel better, do stuff, cough again. Hopefully the feel better and do stuff parts of this equation will get longer and longer and the cough again will get shorter and shorter, but we’ll see. For today though, I’ll take it easy. If only they could figure out what’s causing the cough, then we’d be cooking with gas. Speaking of which, y’all might be wondering how I can have this dream with all of my ailments going on. Well, let me tell you — I’m not trying to make the biggest, best thrift store out there so I’m not going to be hustling and bustling to “Go big or go home.” I’m not trying to build the next Goodwill™ , you know? What I want is something that I’m doing that contributes to our family income, and hopefully doesn’t operate in a loss. But even if the store I want doesn’t make a ton of money, the property we buy won’t cost more than we can afford on Doug’s income, so the idea is that we can live there no matter what and not be in danger of losing our home in case I need to reassess the situation. I’m pretty sure that I’ve got it figured out. I’ve had a long time to do so, and I’ve got folders and folders of research on my computer. I’ve read books! I’m not just sitting here playing video games all day, you know! Despite evidence to the contrary. ^_^ Okay, it’s been awhile since I’ve done actual research on this, and I haven’t looked up anything in Colorado (where we’re looking at moving to next if we don’t go back to New Mexico), but I’ve got a year. I’m a good study, and research is my strong suit.
So there you have it, dear reader, my silly little dream. Just thought I’d share.