Work, stress, running, stress.

Three hours with the magic hippie lady. I can't believe she spent that much time trying to fix me up. Then again, she charged me.

I'm riding the 8:22 train back to Westchester, and my mind is reeling.

The deal to merge my company with Bigger Company is at a very weird point. In an offhanded way, the other person (Ms. X) who'd be joining the merged firm mentioned that she would work for me directly, if things didn't work out with the Bigger Company.

Casually, then, she blew my mind.

Here's the order of events.

1. Bigger Company tries to hire Ms. X directly. Fails. She's not interested.
2. After they couldn't hire her, Bigger Company suggests I try to hire Ms. X. I fail. We're a little small, and she doesn't knows us well enough to make the leap.
3. Bigger Company wants to open a new division consisting of my firm and Ms. X. She'll joing the division if I go. I'll join if she goes.
4. During the negotiation process, Ms. X gets to know me, and my kick-ass little staff. She becomes willing to join us directly.

So what the fuck am I supposed to do? There's plusses to both sides, but I don't see the point of joining Bigger Company at a minority ownership level if I can create something bigger, better, stronger, etc., at my own little firm.

So I'm thinking about it. And so is she. I told her that she really had to think over whether she'd come to my company or not, and give me an honest answer, so I can go to Bigger Company and tell them that the deal's off.

And Bigger Company wants to sew this up this week. Ag.

Also, the marathon is in four days. Nerves.

Also, the guy next to me is using a black MacBook, and I thought it was a PC with a sticker. I swear.

Also, I miss my friend Lisa a lot.

Also, I find the group of dudes at this downtown meeting I go to a tad intimidating.


Love to all. Even you, the guy in front of me who was super nice when I sat down, but apparently has some form of Tourette's.

p.s. The house in Vermont fell through because there was serious degradation of the support sills. As in, rot. Gross. Sorry I forgot to mention that, Anonymous Commenter!