October 25. Tuesday Night.

Hi Journey.

Shelly's gone insane. I'm not stupid enough just yet to add fuel to the fire by digging in my heels and trying to derail the train she's riding so high on right now.

Too many years of constant color-schemes running through her head. Too many sleepless nights tossing and turning in bed while mulling over how well a window treatment will match the fabric on a couch has finally driven her over the edge.

She wants us to sell paint.

Not just paint to our clients. She wants us to sell paint. Period. Just peddle paint to anybody coming in off the street. She wants to turn us into a junior version of Sherwin Williams or Pratt and Lambert.

And the rest of the girls agreed with her at this afternoon's Bloom Team meeting. They're all off the chain. Completely unhooked.

Joni—Joni!!--even stopped stenoing her notes long enough to chime in that it might be a good idea. She's my rock; the one who always steers our brainstorming meetings back to reality when the rest of them start going off the deep end of some completely unworkable marketing idea during the Bloom Team session.

OK, Joni didn't completely agree. But she did voice that it might be worthwhile looking into. And Dana allowed it “wouldn't hurt to try” but didn't exactly 100% endorse Shelly's idea. But Vivian flat-out said she thought it would definitely be a great way to boost our revenue. She thought we would definitely broaden our customer base.

Right—like I can see any of them mixing a can of flat latex for some man that comes in off the street and then walking back into a consultive session in a paint-splattered smock while Ms Suburban Success sits there in a $300 suit mentally double-taking why she wanted to spend ten grand with us.

Not.

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