Some Business in the Closet

Dear Diary,

I am a very independent man. This is why I am starting my own company. I already took a few days off from work (I called in sick again) to concentrate on Phase I of my master plan. It only took me one week to get it done, and that was coming up with a company name.

I have set up a home office which is actually a re-converted closet where I have a chair, a pad of paper with pen, and a flashlight for lighting. My wife’s hanging coats sometimes get in the way of me seeing my pad of paper on my lap, but it’s still nice to hang out in there. It makes me feel like we have this whole other room that we never knew about. I locked myself in my closet office for a full seven days, only emerging when I had completed Phase I. There were only 4 instances when I briefly left the closet, and these were:

1) to go to the washroom

2) to go to the corner store to restock on what I call my “business decision-making fuel” (which is just basically bags of marshmallows)

3) to watch the Sci-Fi Channel (mostly for inspiration) for fourteen straight hours a day

4) to take a much needed break every seven minutes

Last night, when my wife finally arrived from a long day at work, I burst out of my office, over-energized with excitement regarding Phase I.

ME: I came up with a name for my company.

MY WIFE: What is it?

ME: Okay, sit down.

My wife sat in the kitchen chair closest to her.

ME: All right… it’s called… Last… But Not Least.

My wife nodded, then frowned.

MY WIFE: What?

ME (smiling from ear to ear): Last… But Not Least.

My wife pondered for a brief moment. Then:

MY WIFE: I’m not sure about the thinking behind a business name with the words “Last” and “Least” in it. It doesn’t really inspire confidence, or anything good, really.

ME: It’s just that as a business, just because I’ll sometimes come in last among my competitors, it won’t necessarily mean that I’m the least, or any less than they are as a company.

MY WIFE: Yes it will.

ME: Plus, when I’m introduced at business award ceremonies, they’ll say, “And now, last but not least, it’s Last But Not Least.” How cool is that?

MY WIFE. Not very. It’s ridiculous actually. What’s your stupid company making anyway?

ME: That’s to be decided during Phase II…

My wife shook her head to herself.

ME: Which I’ve already started. So far, I’ll be making a reality show of what it’s like to be me during the day [see previous diary entry].

MY WIFE: I’ve seen the footage. It’s just you in the kitchen, sleeping. And then you’re gone for hours.

ME: It’s not like we won’t be making other stuff too.

MY WIFE: Like what?

ME: I’m thinking something like paper towel. It’s everywhere. I just have to go to the drugstore, buy a whole bunch on sale, and then roll it onto my own rolls, and sell it again.

MY WIFE: So you’ll be reselling paper towel?

ME: Yeah, but with my picture on the package.

MY WIFE: Who cares if your picture’s on the package? Nobody knows you from Adam.

ME: Yeah, but it’ll be a picture of me smiling, because I’m getting all my messes cleaned up. Everybody’s got messes.

MY WIFE: Some more than others.

ME: I have a surprise for you.

MY WIFE: I’m not that interested.

ME: I’m making you VP of Last But Not Least.

MY WIFE: VP of what?

ME: VP of Funding. I want you to call all the members of your family, and all the members of your friends’ families and I want you to ask them to invest in my company. And then I’d like you to report back to me in one hour with a progress PowerPoint presentation. We’ll meet in the closet. I’ve set up a boardroom.

MY WIFE: Stop going in the closet. All my clothes are sticky with these little bits of marshmallow everywhere.

ME: Well, I don’t know where you find the time for all this chitter-chatter. I’m just the CEO around here. I’m not the VP of Funding with all these extra hours for fun and games. Oh well, if you’ll just indulge me, I have a company to run.

And with that I stomped back into the closet, slammed the door and turned on my flashlight.