how I'm becoming old fast

I keep laughing to myself about how back in October when the bakery got unprecedentedly busy during National Day week, a 700 yuan day seemed like something special . . . like we'd SERVED SOME CUSTOMERS. I would come home at night and soak my feet (which would still hurt in the morning), and think with awe of all the money we were making. At this point, of course, 5, 6, and 700 days seem normal. And then suddenly, last week we're breaking 1000, which is a new unprecedentedly busy, and it's all the three of us can do to keep up. I lock the door around 11:15, and am usually back by mid-to-late morning. My feet hurt sometimes when I wake up. Sam's mom tells me to soak them in hot water and ginger before I go to bed. Maybe I will tonight.

Earlier when I strolled out onto the street to breath some cool air, I started chatting with the woman who sells soy, peanut, and other-bean milk. She said, as a way of making conversation, "haven't closed yet?" "nope" I said, and asked her what time she normally closes. Depends on her mood, turns out. Yesterday she closed at six in the evening. You know, when you're just not in the mood, right? But then the customers are there the next day, asking, "where were you last night?" and doing business is supposed to have an element of freedom, but it sure doesn't feel like freedom! At this point I'd joined in and we were laughing back and forth about how tired we get, closing late and opening early (though she starts early for real, not 9 or 11 "early" like we do.) How it's hard getting out of bed in the morning, especially in the winter.

On Sunday before ZY left, the three of us turned about eight would-be customers away and kicked another two out early so we could close and get to the massage place by 10. It was worth it, giggling between ZY and TL, with the massage workers, who know my history in Nanchong. That and having all those hours of hunching over the coffee machine worked out of my shoulders.