I don’t even know if this thing works anymore.  Certainly the interface is different than the last time I was here.  Most likely there’s no one to read it but me.  And maybe Liz.  But I have time to write now.

I quit my job today.  That’s a rather melodramatic way of stating it, but it’s true.  I’ve been the owner, janitor and caretaker for a lovely yarn shop for the past 15 years, and today I sold it.  Tomorrow I can stay in my pajamas all day if I want to.  Monday I won’t have to make-the-deposit-pay-the-bills-order-new-merchandise-start-a-new-sample.  I can just be.  Actually, Monday I get on an airplane and fly away for a bit, but that’s the topic of another conversation.

What has amazed me about this whole process is the emotional roller coaster I’ve been on.  I made the decision to sell the shop because I was burned out, and extended family obligations meant I didn’t have the time to properly run a retail business.  I was excited when a pretty large number of people expressed interest in buying the store.  Eventually it came down to just one person who was  intent on the idea of keeping a yarn store in Huntsville.  There was some upheaval along the way, but I got past that.  It was this week that did me in.  I was busybusybusy for most of the week, so I had little time to think about how I felt.  Yesterday, though, it all came crashing in on me, and I was surprised to find myself teary eyed at the least little thing.  Visiting the store for the last time this morning nearly did me in. What saved me from true meltdown was that there were people in the store, the new staff, rearranging things in anticipation of the grand re-opening tomorrow morning.  Part of me would like to be a fly on the wall to see how things go there tomorrow.  Most of me, though, needs a long break.

So I got through it all, the last visit, the closing, handing over my keys, transferring the domain name and the e-mail account, deleting those things from my home computer.   And I’m fine.  Really and truly I am.  You know what?  I think I’ll go knit.  Because that’s what we do here at Manning Knits.

PS — Liz, can you change my avatar?