I never write about me on the blog - but I did .

I never really know how I got here - why I’m here or when/ if it will end. I know that when I started as a florist almost 10 years ago I felt as though I’d hit the jack pot - I needed the money but I ended up needing the job more - I would work all the overtime in the world just too make flowers , staying for hours after my shifts had finished just to make flowers, and keep making and make again. Skipping uni ,skipping mates birthdays ; It was as if I had found some strange internal Mecca .
I never really know how I started That Flower Shop, or how I got the studio, or how I ended up in area with an amazing array of restaurants I could do the flowers in .
I don’t really know how I got the mega opportunity to have a bonkers shop on Shoreditch High Street - but all these things happened and continue to happen and I think will always happen .
I also never really know , how I slept on a sofa for 6 months too make the business work, or moved in with strangers too a room no bigger than a cupboard . Or only had £4 for fuel too get too the flower market.
I never know why I think it’s acceptable to work from 3 am or 4 am in the morning till 6pm or 7pm in the evening. A casual 16hr day 6 days a week . I’ve lost a lot of friends and lovers and made a lot of enemies .
And I could continue to bang on about the plethora of issues that arise from running your own business but I’m going to stop .
I’ve noticed lately that some beautifully wonderfully creative florists have been expressing their hardships because of this so called life and it’s kinda annoying. This job is hard- it’s a fact .

It’s important to not forget …
1.That yes this business has made me cry - but I also probably laugh 10 times more than the average person at work each day and I am fortunate enough, to be surrounded by an eclectic array of crazy boys and girls that make this circus of a flower shop work every day.

2.That people have cheated me out of the money that I am rightly owed and belittled my intelligence, in an industry fuelled by old men trying to make an extra couple of quid - but for all those people like that there will always be one person that might just spend a tenner in the shop but that one bunch of flowers will make their day/week and they will be genuinely grateful.

3.That I’m not superwoman - ( it’s hard for me too get my head around that one ) but I can not work 16 hour days every day for 3 years . Because I will end up in hospital and I did. That I can not say yes too everyone and be everywhere and answer every email and be the perfect friend and girlfriend and boss and florist and whatever else - because I am just one person genuinely dedicated too what what I do.
I’ve had a super tough 6 months a lot of shit has gone down - but at the end of the day about 3 main points have arisen.

-1.That apparently when I look act and feel like the so called ‘old me’ my friends refer too . I am with flowers or making flowers . In my weird floral Mecca land.
-2.That when faced with the possibility that I might have some serious life threatening illness - my main worry was that I still needed to be able to make flowers .
-3.And thirdly that when all this shit -with having too manage people and money and expectations grinds me down so close too the pavement that I swear I can see the sand in the slabs. I usually feel ok after I’ve made a bunch of flowers or two.

This is my life . I am undeniably connected too my job .
But all of the rest of it I sometimes really need people too be more patient.
Like the running a business thing ( there’s a lot of work to be done there ) like the being professional thing . The being a boss thing ( that is quite truly the worst part of my job) I can not be everyone’s friend . The taking time off thing . These are things I’m not good at .

But at the end of the day the only thing I can solely say is and that I actually know is - I am a good florist .