Naturally, we're all focusing on the fact that business is getting worse, that our turnovers are dropping and that we're facing the prospect of a somewhat daunting period where it could all go horribly wrong.
My accountant made it abundantly confusing for me last week by announcing that my turnover was down 7% on the previous year and that my wet sales alone were down 14%. He advised me that I'd made a 1% loss overall and that, given the way things are going, I ought to start considering whether staying in the pub was the right thing.
It wasn't as bad as I was expecting it to be and then, in the next sentence, he pointed out that I had actually made a profit in the last quarter of my financial year, that I was doing better than most of the pubs he looked after and that, if I could ride out this difficult time, I could be sitting on a great little pub and benefit long-term from it.
And, to be fair, despite the gloom and doom I'm going to stick my head above the parapet and declare that business is good at the moment. Several times over the past six weeks I've had to make an emergency dash to my brewery to top up stock, a sure-fire indicator that business has been better than I'd expected it to be. Some might say that's a sign of poor stock-management, and I wouldn't ordinarily disagree, but while I'd stocked for the level of business I was expecting - plus kept some in reserve - I still found myself running out; and to run out of something you thought you had more than enough stock of is always a good problem to have, in my book.
It's not just me, either. Waking up on bank holiday Sunday last week I grimaced at the sound of the rain lashing down on my bedroom window. Immediately I was haemorrhaging money, counting the cost of my barbecue and the giant inflatable obstacle course that I'd got booked for the day, and wondering whether anybody would turn up for the disco we'd got planned in the evening. But, by the middle of the day, the sun was shining, the inflatable was dry, a crowd lingered around the barbie - and at least two of the pubs near me had phoned to see if I'd got any surplus stock I could loan to them.
Seems it's not just me that's bad at stock management - or, perhaps, we're all just enjoying a little bit of a resurgent business at the moment. I've certainly had less time recently to sit here writing blogs that berate the smoking ban...
Of course, we're at the end of the school holidays, those who've been on holiday will be back at work next week and perhaps the false security I've been lulled in to over the past six weeks or so will be pulled away from me like a three-year-old's dummy, but I'd like to think that this good business will carry on for a little while yet.
That said, however, the biggest indicator to me that things are not as rosy as my tinted glasses are making them look is the sheer volume of cold-calling that's happening at the moment.
More salesmen from condiment companies, food companies, drinks companies, advertising companies and chemical companies have called canvassing business in the last three weeks than they have in the last three years. But the one that told the most was the chap who almost wept with relief when I ordered five litres of beer line cleaner from him.
That, to me, told more of a story of how difficult things might be going to get than the fact that Alistair Darling's going to have to sell Big Ben to the French next week to cover England's overdraft.