Coronavirus Chronicles: The business owner

So that's what shattered dreams sound like. At the click of a button, my dreams were all but over. A quiet death, rather than a dramatic twist of fate, welcomed them; I simply pressed the shut down button on my recently acquired laptop and the silence was deafening.

It was bought on company expenses, of course, yet that laptop had already outlived the company itself. The coronavirus pandemic had taken the world hostage since the turn of the year, demanding a tidy daily ransom in return. My contribution to said ransom was a failed business and a lifetime of ambition turned to mere dust.

A price comparison site for hotels seemed a good enough idea when I set out on day zero in December 2019. Sure, the market was saturated and that bloody Trivago woman was all over the tele. But I had a niche – and I believed in it.

Little did I know day zero was exactly the same day patient zero contracted coronavirus. Now, who needs to compare hotel prices when no one can even reach one? Fuck hotel comparison sites, this spring there are no hotels.

I don't regret giving it a shot, though. I will never regret pursuing my dreams.

I only have one regret...

A few months ago, I laughed at a good friend when he started a far less glamorous company than that of my own. In fact, I took the piss out of him for weeks. I was relentless.

But who's laughing now, eh? Never mind declaring bankruptcy, he can retire off the revenue he's already generated this year alone. You could say he's on a roll.

He had only gone and started a fucking toilet paper company.