We are the little business that could. We are as chuffed as we are exhausted. So we are hiring.
As a recovering perfectionist, I understand the feeling of being dissatisfied with the smallest (and most trivial) of imperfections, allowing the sentiment to overwhelm the whole. But now, I am a proud imperfectionist. Why?
My body hurts. My brain hurts. And boy do my feet hurt. But it feels good to be physically working on the shop each day, along with educating myself on making good espresso and how not to poison my customers with mayo.
Thanks to a rather gung ho father with a paint brush, I almost didn't get these shots! But before shots are a must, and although the site is an empty shell, there's a bucket-load of things that will change.
I have no hospitality experience. Unless you count the time I lasted one day as a waitress in a hotel in Spain, or the time a few weeks back I helped in the tuckshop at the school athletics carnival.
Considering we don't have too many Saturdays left before we open our doors, we thought we'd make the most of it and try a few new places to eat and drink. We also thought it would be a great opportunity to scout for suppliers—and make new friends.
So. Many. Lists. And so many unknowns! I already feel daunted, and we're only at the start of this next chapter in our lives. But d'you know what? I'm OK with it. Because it it wasn't for the fear, and the butterflies, and the little bit of crazy we all have in us, we'd never try anything new.