In my last post I mentioned a few of the things I learned owning Prairie Girl Bakery.
But if I do in fact plan to make use of that knowledge, I need to write the qualitative part of a business plan. Based on what I have learned about the foodservice business, I’ve cobbled together a quantitative forecast for a new business. Now I need to write it out, to add all the details of what, when, where, who and how. Although it feels like this pandemic will never end, indeed it will, and all signs point to a fast recovery when it does.
But dedicated focus has been elusive for me lately, in this, the 3rd wave of the pandemic.
I was going to do the qualitative plan yesterday but I did not.
Instead, when Andrew received an Amazon delivery of a set of beanbags (long story), we had a toss-off to see who could hit a target most often out of six.
Also, before dinner, Andrew, Ted and I had a taste test between Heinz and no-name ketchup; Cadbury mini eggs and PC knock off eggs; and Coke and Pepsi. Over dinners for the past few months, both Andrew and Ted claimed discernment between these products, and I was done listening to their boasts.
For the record, Andrew did not accurately select the Heinz ketchup (“it was the Tater Tots’ fault”).
And if Ted’s program doesn’t lead to employment, the good news is that he can do the impossible and choose Coke correctly 3/3 times. Perhaps this is a marketable skill.
So, no, I did not get my business planning work done yesterday, and the reason is simple. You can only write a business plan when you know what you are going to do.
I’ve been telling myself that I don’t know what to do – whether to start another business at all, and if so, what it should be.
In frustration at my procrastination yesterday, I looked through my little collection of motivational quotes from the last couple of years. Lo and behold, one was really helpful. I read it a few times over because it was so true, for me anyway.
It was a short blog post by Seth Godin.
Hiding in Plain Sight
The answer to your quandary is right there, in front of you.
It’s just that it involves more work, more risk or more trade-offs than you were hoping for.
I hate it when someone I don’t even know, in a couple of sentences I clipped three years ago, calls me out.
I’ll get it done now. I know what to do. I’ve just been hoping for an easier answer.