The first night
Today is Aperto's birthday.
And I watched Scrubs during the Christmas holidays.
Newsletter that compares how the first year of Open was with the first night shift in the hospital to start the year with a retrospective? OK.
Friends and friends, welcome back Between the Notes. How are you?
During these Christmas holidays, thanks to some free time and the need for something light, I started a rewatch of Scrubs.
Do you know that episode? JD, the main character, finds himself managing his first night shift in the hospital, without supervision, together with his companions.
No doctor to guide them, only them, the patients and a sea of doubts and fears.
It is a moment when they understand that, no matter how much they have studied, they must now face reality.
It seemed like a perfect parallel with Aperto's first year. That feeling of being alone, with a thousand things to learn, but also with the power of those who know they can count on their strength.
And now, with the start of a new year, it's the perfect time to do a retrospective.
And you, are you afraid of the dark?
Starting a business is a bit like dealing with that first night:
You've already done everything during the day, but at night, alone, the atmosphere is different.
The first few weeks? A vortex: bureaucracy, contracts, documents, everything to discover. Every small step felt like a mountain. But we were prepared, at least that's what we thought. Not being exactly the emblem of the brave knights, we had planned, imagined every possible scenario, and this helped us. We had given ourselves time to get to that moment.
Sure, the fear was there, but it was small compared to the enthusiasm to start. After all, every small success seemed like a huge victory. It was necessary to acclimate, of course, but the adrenaline and the desire to succeed were stronger.
If not now, when?
And so, once we understood how it worked, we found ourselves in our 'ward', ready to face the night.
The enthusiasm to do it alone
The department is ours. We are the ones who decide how to work, who set the rules. No supervisor, no one to show the way.
It was exciting, almost liberating. The first few weeks taught us that, with a little luck and a lot of determination, we could get by. Of course, there were some strokes of luck, and I don't deny it. Those little moments when things are surprisingly good, and you feel almost invincible.
And so, we 'surfed' the central weeks of the year with enthusiasm:
- A new department with wonderful new people, who have embraced the cause and brought fun to the group.
- Every completed project was a confirmation that we were doing something good, that we were on the right path.
But the thing we didn't know was that the most critical moment was yet to come: the last hours of the night, when energies naturally start to wane and the unexpected seems to multiply (thanks to bureaucracy: *).
The Race for Dawn
The last months of the year were the most intense. It seemed like all the unexpected had come together at the same time. Every day there was something new, as if we were surrounded by 'red codes'.
And yet, do you know what? Once overcome, those red codes didn't seem so serious. They were just other experiences to add to our baggage, complexity of a muddy system and other lessons to be more ready for the next round.
And so, the night is over.
At Christmas, with a slice of our personalized panettone (yes, we really made an Open Panettone: blue icing and white clouds), we sat down to take stock. It was our first hour off after a long night of work. Tired, but satisfied.
And that very panettone has become a small symbol for us.
Not just because it was good (and it was, I swear!) , but because it represented our way of doing things: with care, with personality and always with that extra touch that makes us feel ourselves.
Every new year is like the dawn after a long night: you are faced with a day to discover, full of possibilities. To those who are here to read, I wish a 2025 full of enthusiasm, small goals, and why not, a little luck. And if you happen to be on a “night shift,” remember: panettone for breakfast is always a great idea.
Until the next note,
Marco.
