they sky in the shop (you read it right...not the shop in the sky...that's ridiculous...)

At one point, I'd really like to go back to college (I know, I know....minus college algebra...I'm left-handed, which means I'm in my right mind - there is NO REASON that there should be letters in math...Just my personal opinion), but right now, I'm starting my own business venture.

I'm kind of scared, because running a business and owning one is very, very different.  I've worked as an assistant manager for a big-box kind of place, and dealing with things like personnel, scheduling, HAZMAT (and to digress a moment, ladies...if you wear make-up, do you realize that if you return it, that some of that crap has to be processed as hazardous chemicals for disposal?  And you're putting that sh!t on your face!), fundraisers, morale boosters, hiring, firing, with training on everything in between.  It's not easy.  But owning your own business is a different kind of crazy, I'll tell you.  Permits, insurance, licenses, advertising, promoting...there's a whole slew of things that you didn't do with a business that's already established that you have to do to establish a business.  No wonder small businesses have a hard time of it!  

But at the moment, the look of the business is  being formulated.  I'm kinda artsy, kinda spiritual.  So to me, I really have to put some heart and soul into it.  And it hasn't been without it's weirdness.

At first, I was gonna put spellwork in the walls (that's the kind of things witches do sometimes, so if you buy a house that's old, and you find things like bottles behind the sheetrock, or feathers tied to the rafters in the attic, don't freak out and automatically assume devil-worship or evil bull....we make things that protect and things that bless...), but I thought that it would freak out the handyman that was doing the job (and really, sometimes it's hard to explain why there's piss and blood in a bottle, but that's one person's version, not necessarily my own...although I've seen it done before).  Same thing with carving into the woodwork, etc.  So instead, I have just sated myself with waiting for completion and adding my items of blessing along with those that my wonderful friends have given me.  

The house is within the city limits, so it's being converted (because any house within the city limits, if it doesn't have a nazi homeowner's association, then you're good - there's really no deed restrictions) into a shop (part of it, anyway).  I've already had old sheet rock fall off and hit me in the face, so it's a job that's been blooded as well.  Literally, blood, sweat, and tears.

And the best part?  Friends and family are helping me along.

Perhaps that sounds like mooching.  It's not.  Not really.  I've worked my ass off, and my husband has been very supportive.  My kids are all a-dither.  I've had people donate items, building materials, inventory, and even a few kilns (that I don't know how to use them, but by the gods, this is gonna happen!) and boxes of glazes.  Everything's coming up Millhouse!

But I'm scared as hell.

It's something I've always wanted.  How silly is that?  I've dreamed about doing something like this since I was 11.  Which is funny to me.  As kids, they give us aptitude tests.  They test, and test, and test, and try to peghole us into what they think we will be most productive in.  And really, I suppose I could be 'productive', but why the hell do I want to go to a job that I hate to make my living, to buy stuff I don't need to impress people I don't like?

I saw an article in Yahoo Spark! where a user was dissing a woman who lived in a tent.  The woman had chose to live simply, in a tent, and as able to pull it off.  She called people who lived in tents 'bums' and was rather condescending.  I don't know.  I think that Eustace Conway probably have a better idea of living than some and other people need to shut the hell up (I love people who give their opinions...they don't offer any solutions or help, they don't offer anything but criticism or self-righteous banter).

But I digress....although during the process of creation, sheetrock fell off and hit me in the face (my lip was rather swollen), we've finally progressed to the point of painting!  There's paint everywhere.  At the moment, if I own a pair of jeans that don't have a speck of paint on them, I'd be surprised.  But I'm slow-going, in that artsy manner...the ceiling is going to be like the night sky, with bits of mirror and shiny-ness everywhere.  I'm excited.  Scared, but excited.  I just hope it becomes a place people love to come to.  Maybe I'll even post pictures.