Packing the first box was the hardest.
It was actually terrifying.
I was in a cold sweat putting it together and running the first shipping label through our Canada Post account. I then drove straight to the local post office with one eye on the box beside me, and one eye on the road.
I handed it gently to the Canada Post lady with what must have looked like an exaggerated, but I can assure you was a heartfelt gesture of pride and apprehension. I refused to let go of it as she took hold of the other end with two hands and we acted out a bad cartoon of back-and-forth or give-and-take.
I knew that I was going to let her win, but I needed her to understand how special this box was without coming across as an all-out crazy mess. My mind was flipping back to all my previous, but unsuccessful attempts at acting calm, cool and not crazy. In my heightened state of anxiety and fear, I wasn’t sure how to best achieve this? Should I tell her in a song? My kids tell me that I sing everything. Mostly the awkward stuff. An image flashed through my mind of me bowing with hands together in a Japanese gesture of respect as I backed out the door. I considered this a good option as it involved me staying quiet and still seemed to whisper of importance.
In the end, I went with a near manic babble of nonsense pierced with startlingly loud, nervous man-laugh. Oh good... my specialty. It was painful for both of us. I reassured her that she would be seeing a lot more of me in the future as I skittered for the door.
I gave my hair a flip.
I marched out to my car and called my amazing business partner. Told her that we had to call off this whole venture immediately.
One box down. We did it. Felt like a resounding success.
My poor nerves might not survive another.