Across the street from the stately, limestone fortress that is the prestigious Indiana University law school, sits a squat little concrete box of a building that mysteriously or perhaps conspiratorially, or as we would hope, mystically, has never been knocked down.
As co-founders of Ozarka, we are pretty much in constant company with each other seven days a week and more often than not spending our waking hours, and for that matter, sleeping ours, working or thinking about the business. We have a few house rules.
Ozarka Goes to School Chapter 3: Millennials and Me
I gave the GPS in my car one more chance. I input the address of the nearest Tesco supermarket--a 30 minute drive. After almost an hour of backtracking, more swearing, and recalculating, I ended up in some sort of quasi-industrial park that had a small SPAR convenience store in it.
Ozarka Goes to School Chapter 2: GPS in Ireland means “Get Possibly Somewhere.”
I stood in line at the Sixt rental car desk at Cork Airport for a considerable amount of time. There were two customers in front of me. The first customers, British, were two elderly sisters and their extra elderly, wheelchair-bound mother. The rental car customer service woman was on the horn with one of the ladies’ husbands.
While Ozarka is still gestating and is for now a dream, a plan, and a digital destination, my schedule is more fluid. This gives me time to cook. One of my favorite ways to cook is to collect leftover bits and bobs and toss them together—usually the best way to do this is with a quick fry up or with an eggy thingy.