Since one of New York’s biggest influencers not only ordered an arrangement from me but shared it on Instagram, things at Bridge and Blooms have exploded. In the way I was praying for, but also so quickly that I didn’t have time to prepare. All of a sudden I was inundated with orders with no way to fulfill them or deliver them, which is, you know, not great for business. Luckily, I have awesome friends and years of experience keeping spreadsheets organized and answering to demanding clients. As an added bonus, my work-centric previous life means I’m used to getting by on four hours of sleep a night. But this is our third weekend of nonstop deliveries and we’ve finally got our system down. Given the sticky August humidity, the flowers need to be spritzed with cool water during delivery times, otherwise they’ll wilt. So each one of my friends is now outfitted with a super-cute Bridge and Blooms apron holding shears, a spray bottle, and a couple of extra flowers for last-minute replacements.

I’m only paying my wonderful and amazing and supportive friends with meals and free drinks at the bar, because despite the influx of orders and therefore cash, purchasing the blooms needed for all these arrangements, plus additional supplies, hasn’t been cheap. Gemma goes back to school in a couple of weeks, which means I’ll lose her mostly free labor, but I can’t guarantee orders will continue at this pace once the social media buzz dies down, and I don’t want to hire someone only to not have enough work to fulfill their hours.

Who knew running a business was hard? Sitcom millennials make it all look so easy, but every day there’s a new decision to be made, more new factors and numbers and scenarios to consider. I just wanted to put together some pretty flowers, but this whole entrepreneur gig is a lot more work than I anticipated, even with my business and finance training. And I’m still working my two shifts a week at the bar since I’m not ready to part with my one steady income stream.

By the time I make it home from my deliveries, everyone else has already returned their supplies and pocketed their hopefully generous tips. I have just enough time to take a quick shower and change before I have to head out again to the bar.

Jack is sitting at the kitchen peninsula when I come downstairs to put on my shoes.

“You coming by the bar tonight?” I slip into my white sneakers and do one last face check in the mirror above the entryway table. I don’t wear much makeup to the bar since most nights I’d sweat it off anyway, but I still dab a little gloss onto my lips.

“I think so. I was going to see if Nick was around.”