The day had come when the beloved golf journals would arrive at my house. It had been about six months since I started this journey and I finally was going to see my babies.
In hindsight, it was the day I lost my garage and the start of my decent into insanity.
The truck backed into the driveway and the tired driver unloaded about 105 boxes of cute, adorable, golf journals. They were stacked high on pallets. One even wobbled like that big stack of presents The Grinch had after ripping off all those little kids. Remember when the huge bag was on the sled and The Grinch's poor dog had to pull it? The truck driver had the same sad look as that poor dog. I gave him a bottle of water because he was tired and I was giddy.
I wonder how many other naive 30-something's he had delivered product to?
Didn't matter. I was going to have a successful business. And this was just the start.
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