Of course the triangular fireplace idea was--you guessed it, Journey, step right up and claim the cigar—Shelly's.

I sucked down three cups of coffee and started writing furiously along the margins of the Gazette. Numbers. Names I can network with. Referrals from current clients. Marketing blitz. Newsletter targeted at businesses. Sales calls from staff. New website. Mailing campaign. Newspaper print campaign in the Gazette. No!!! Scratch that—anybody that is going to run these trashy lies about the Derrick, Isaac, Robinson and Trent winning the RFP isn't going to get a dime of my money. Radio. Lots of radio. KAAZ talk radio boys must need help. TV. Door-to-Door. Graffiti.

Direct Mail campaign. Oh, I said that already, didn't I? Well, maybe it'll be worthwhile. Maybe not. All I know is I sat there for an hour sucking down Haitians and a double espresso. Usually I'd be shaking apart after that much cafiend but this afternoon it didn't even matter because I was writing out my frustrations.

By the time I was done that newspaper was covered in heavy-stroked exclamations. It wasn't so much I'd written a marketing plan as a declaration of war. I'm going to frame it and hang it on the wall of Tethered Helium.

I swung back to the office by 3 PM. Calm. Everybody else was out on a call. Joni was the only one there. She was buried in an accounting nightmare. At first I thought it was another problem with the server, but it wasn't. Apparently, she had set-up a new accounting software module that was touted to help us better track time spent on a project. You know bean-counters: always searching for the best way to tally the most beans with the least effort. I'll never understand it; but thank the Lord there are people like Joni that get a sense of fulfillment from a bean well counted.

Anyway, somehow she had installed the program wrong. The classic GIGO scenario, but at least she had only been tracking her own time with the program, and not anybody else's. She was bright enough to beta-test it on herself before she suffered it onto the staff.

If she saw I was upset—and she probably did, knowing her—she had the good sense to see that I just wanted to be left alone.

I didn't act on anything today, Journey. Didn't call a meeting of the Bloom team; didn't send out any memos or even draft any press releases. I need a day or maybe a week to feel my way toward the direction of this B to B venture I'm going to dive in.

My gut tells me to just take it slow, and see how far I can go with my own efforts—sort of like I did when I started Crystal Designs.

Frankly, I'm worn out just now, Journey. But, I promised you last night I'd let you know how Saturday's date with Eddie went. If I don't tell you know, just one more day will drift by and the details will fuzz out.

Page 3.