|Chili, pumpkin soup, pesto and eggplant dip: "Please take us home. We promise to be very, very good!"|
The day I announced my very first giveaway on this blog, I had also drafted my resignation letter and made a phone appointment with my boss in Hong Kong.
Starting a prepared food business had always been a long-time dream, and after a (mostly) wonderful 6-year ride at my current corporate gig, I was finally committing to doing it.
Imagine, therefore, my sheer terror when hours after I had posted my exciting giveaway, there were no takers. Zero. Zilch. Nada. Itlog (the Filipino word for egg, local slang for zero, in case you hadn't figured it out).
I began hyperventilating. What was I, nuts? How could I possibly think I could make a living selling food, giving up the security of a corporate job and a regular paycheck when I couldn't even GIVE my chili away?
"You're gonna starve," I said tearfully to the Destructo-Cats, who just looked at me, seemingly unmoved. "You're no match for those feral street cats. Hell, you're no match for those street rats. You wouldn't last five minutes out there."
|"She's being weird again. Just ignore her. She'll stop, eventually."|
So I went ahead and tendered my resignation, then braced myself for the emotional roller coaster everyone assured me would follow. And while they were right about all the weird emotions that came up (and down, then up again before a loop-de-loop), it was strangely comforting to realize that not one of those emotions was regret. Exhilaration, liberation, sadness, nostalgia, fear, you name it, I felt it. But not regret. Not even for one minute. And that's when I knew, that no matter how the next chapter of my life turned out, finally ending the last one was the right thing to do.
As for my giveaway that I couldn't give away, I realized afterwards that I had inadvertently deleted the giveaway mechanics. So, I tweaked. Then there were a few entries but nowhere near as many as I'd hoped. But after that, I got all sorts of people asking questions like "Do tweets count?" or "'I Liked' your post on your page. Does that count?"
And then, I got actual orders. You know, from people who were actually willing to pay for my food. The cats and I were greatly relieved, to say the least.
|"So...no need to give up the accessories just yet?"|
So, basically, since only two or three people followed my ditzy giveaway mechanics to the letter, I'm going to take it as a sign that I need to be clearer about this sort of thing. The qualifying geniuses get prizes, and the rest get raffled off among those who who liked or shared my posts on any other social network.
And I have a feeling that's what this ride is going to look like. I'm going to try something, have a panic attack when it doesn't work quite the way I thought it would, tweak, try again, re-tweak, hyperventilate, tweak YET AGAIN, and (hopefully!) at some point, make it work.
I am so way out of my comfort zone here, I'm practically in the Twilight Zone (Bella and Edward and the werewolf with the killer abs whose name I can't remember are here, too, along with Rod Serling).
But boy, oh, boy, am I excited. More than I've been in a VERY long time. And that means I'm going to have fun. Interspersed with panic attacks, meltdowns, breakdowns and bouts of hyperventilation, sure, but still, it's going to be AWESOME.
I'll be sharing this post on the pages of the giveaway winners to let them know they've won. As for the rest of you, there's a fresh batch of chili con carne, pesto and roasted pumpkin soup just waiting to be ordered.
I hope you'll join me for the ride as I chronicle it on this blog and, if you're local, check out the Real Girl, Toy Kitchen Products page often. Because like me, that page is about to do some major evolving.