Why We’re Writing a Journal (and Why You Should Care)

Sometimes I forget things I shouldn’t forget.

Ask my wife. She’ll remind me that I actually don’t like that dish I’m suggesting for dinner — or that my “new” idea about trying that restaurant again is an old idea I already hated once before.

Turns out memory can be tricky. So part of this journal is purely selfish: a way to keep a living record of this crazy journey we’re on with Apogee. Not just for our team now, but for myself ten years from now. And maybe, one day, for my kids to read — the same way I used to read about my great grandfather’s adventures as a missionary in Santo Domingo in the late 1800s.

But that’s not the only reason we're writing a journal.

We’re trying to turn around a cafe. Not a new one. Not a blank slate. A living, breathing, already-beloved place in Olathe, Kansas — one Bryan, Patrick, and I bought knowing full well it had significantly more potential than it was currently showing.

It’s a story so many business owners can relate to. You see an opportunity — something that’s clear to you but others are missing. You think you’ve got the formula to make it work. Then one day (often sooner than you expect), you look up and realize: you may have drifted miles from where you thought you were headed. How did we end up here? Were we flying blind? Were we watching the wrong markers? What were we thinking when we mislabeled big dreams as next-quarter expectations? The cash is thin, the margins are tight, and now the only way forward is straight through the middle of it — one clear-eyed decision at a time.

We could drum up a big influx of cash. Throw money at the problem. But that’s not the game we signed up for. We’re trying to fix the thing so the thing can "fix itself." By this I mean building a business that can sustain itself and its people without a sugar high of funding that may mask fundamental problems.

And we’re doing it with a product mix that would give most marketers cold sweats:

Coffee. Pizza. Beer. Cocktails. All-day space. All-people space.

In other words: three — or four? — businesses in one, and none of them easy.

There’s another reason we’re writing this: the people who already love this place.

We already see them. The regulars who are here week after week. The babies in strollers and the couples on dates. The friends who meet here after a climb. The work-from-here folks. The celebrations, the hard talks, the make-ups.

For many, Apogee is their spot — woven into the fabric of their lives.

And frankly, we owe it to them to make sure this place is here for years to come. I don’t want to be the one who messes that up. I think I speak for the whole staff when I affirm that we all feel that responsibility deeply. We all love being here.

So why should you care?

If you’re local:

Because we want to be a place worth supporting. Not just with your dollars, but with your goodwill and your encouragement. This is a real story about a real cafe, in a real town — and we’d love for you to follow along (and maybe stop by to see how it’s going).

If you’re an entrepreneur (or thinking about becoming one):

Because this journal is an honest look at what it takes to grow a business with limited resources and lots of heart. No hype. No shortcuts. Just three owners, a great team, and a shared belief that we can build something special here.

And if you’re like me — an immigrant working to build something lasting for your family — I hope this adds a little spark. The American Dream still matters. I believe that. And I want to be part of writing the next chapter.

We’ll share progress, decisions, lessons, and maybe a few hard-earned laughs along the way. Not as experts. As people who care about doing this well.

If that sounds interesting, follow along. And if you happen to be in Olathe — come say hi. I’ll probably be here with coffee in hand, trying to remember which of my ideas was actually a good one this time around.

Cheers,

Eric Rivier