It would make sense to start at the beginning, but not everything has to make sense. Actually a lot of what happens in my life makes no sense what so ever. I never anticipated owning a restaurant and a brewery... or having 20 employees. (or catering weddings?!)
I always wanted to live in a warehouse where I could paint and build things, wander around in an ADHD haze, starting 16 to 24 different projects per day, only to restart about half of them the next. A place where I could disappear and just do my thing... turn off the phone, lock all the doors - and if the knock on the door isn't accompanied by flashing red lights and a stern voice with a badge, don't answer it.
So here I am, living above my restaurant and beside my pub. Half of my old studio space is now filled with hungry customers laughing, eating and drinking. A good chunk of the warehouse is kitchens, filled with stoves, convection ovens, refrigerators, chefs and cooks. Waitstaff, food runners, a day and night maitre d'... a brewery with hundreds of gallons of beer fermenting at different stages... the ice machine comes in handy though.
Yeah, my life took a strange turn about ten years ago, and it might sound like it, but I'm not complaining. As much as I used to chase after some dream that always seemed to be just out of reach I now find myself in the middle of this dream, being chased.