So after working until the wee hours, going home feeling like I threw my back
out and stressing about cash flow, I'm back, I'm coffeed, and I'm looking up.
Notice that I did not say things were looking up. Nope, just me. I'm the only
optimistic thing in this room. My parentals, God love them, came and helped me
package last night. We made a SERIOUS dent. Every single order from now till
October 1 is stacked, noted for reorder or replacement needed, and organized
across the lovely zebra print carpet. Sheer organization has helped to eliminate
some of the stress factor, I'm sure. I'm really thinking that until this whole
NY thing is over they should really keep me off the streets.
April 2004 Archives
Do you ever just have those discouraging days? After not being able to sleep
last night, to not being able to get up this morning, to not being able to
seemingly get stuff done that most people would consider basic customer service,
to not being able to afford to get my hair highlighted and going without a
manicure or a pedicure for the better part of 6 months. I can't do this. I can't
keep hours that are longer than Starbucks. How do people pay to have cute toile
draperies and wood floors refinished? I can't even afford to pay my doctors
bills. Disheartening, I'm sorry. But if I'm ever anyone famous, nobody can say I
didn't starve to get there.
It's way too late for me to be working. I'm tired, I'm cranky, and I want to go
home. Today nearly qualified as a disaster. The orders continue to pour
themselves in, I continue to get up each morning and drag my coffee-ed self to
Starbucks, and lately, I've set into the regimine a cream-cheese danish.
Healthy, I know. Anyway, I got some of the scrapbook stuff taken care of, even
though I still need to place a major order for supplies, and I met with my
sister to pick out a friends' wedding gift. Stuff that needed to be done.
However, I would like someone to tell me why phone companies seem to be so
imcompetent. Monday the Cox dude came out to fix Donna's line, and in doing so,
seems to have destroyed mine. I can recieve calls forwarded to my cell phone,
but beyond that, they can't seem to even get their little selves over here to
look at the phone. I haven't heard from them since Monday either. To boot that,
I'm trying to get last minute details taken care of to GET to New York (like
hotel, what I'm going to cover the floor of my booth in, literature,
designs)--you know, the stuff that makes my company run? And I don't have a
PHONE to do it. I really and truly could give Cox a smaking, were they all
capable of standing in my office at this very moment. Corporate America, kiss
this.
Every body needs a blog. It's the best, freest therapy in the world. And I
swear, there are days when I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't stop and read
someone else's or vent in mine. This morning I discovered that PLAIN OLD FOLDING
CHAIRS rent for $85 in New York. Fugettaboudit. Not gonna spend 85 smackers per
chair on 4 chairs. Nor will I spend 185 bucks on a table. This put me into a
whirlwind on shipping charges, tablecloths, and ballroom chair hunt-down. To top
this off, I've got to finish two custom proofs, overnight some stuff to D.C.,
and SOMEHOW crank out some Christmas designs. Oh, and get the reprint images to
the printer. And pack some more orders. It's not a bad day, just a day in need
of caffenation.
In the midst of this insanity I call life, I found time to grab a creamcheese
danish and venti, non-fat, iced, mocha-mint latte this morning. Savory. I'm
currently in the process of cleaning off my desk, the phone has also rung a
couple of times this morning, and I got some checks in the mail yesterday, as
well as a slew of orders last night, thank the Lord. I've decided the them for
New York is going to be--DRUMROLL, Kevmo, please--PINK! Shocker! I knew you all
would never guess! Pink walls, pink invitations, pink dress with pink suit
jacket, pink purses, PINK!! I'm going to start putting together all my little
sketches into new designs--my favorite part of this whole craziness.
Not a very bright morning. I feel VERY overextended. I called my bookkeeper at
8:30 last night, right on time for my weekly freak-out. She ever so patiently
answered my call, my annoying questions, and proceed to pacify my concerns with
promises of a financial plan. I hope she doesn't give up halfway through. This
morning, visions of French chairs and floral-printed-silks danced in my
head...someday, I'll have the house on the hill and the in-the-black pocketbook.
Off to see the printer, then my friend Carrie, then help Kelly get her tax #,
then, maybe, I'll have time to come back here and pack a few boxes and pay a few
bills with some money that doesn't exist.
I think I'm going to have to become one of those bloggers who saves deep
thoughts for a blog once every 1.5 weeks. There is so much going on. I worked on
the house all weekend long; we stripped neon yellow paint (and orange, blue,
green, white, taupe and brown paint) off of the kitchen cabinets. Today is big
trash pick-up day, which couldn't have timed itself better, as we hauled rolls
of grody carpet and and old dryer to the curb. I moved my sofa, TV cabinet into
the green room, and bought an antique dressing table at an estate sale on
Saturday and lugged that into my bedroom. It finally feels sorta like a house,
minus decent flooring, but I'm just happy with the progress. On the agenda
today: finish up as much custom work as possible, move on to organizing for New
York and shipping as many orders as possible. When that's done, sit down in an
exhausted moment and try to pull some new designs from you-know-where. Thank
goodness I paid the reps last week, their checks go out today, and I only have
two bills left to pay this month: house and rent. Sales are up, are continuing
to go up, and hopefully I'll be out of this cash crunch by the end of the year.
[deep breath]. Carry on, fellow bloggers.
Omigosh. I have to apologize/confess...I haven't read a single blog beside's
Ash's this week. Things have been all too insane to come close to a relaxed
moment. I'm full swing into another hectic morning; I can't seemed to understand
the definition of the word "no". So sad. Anyway, happy Thursday to all. D and I
are probably going to swing by WD Saturday night if possible...
Just so you know. Little or nothing delights me in life as much as something
Kate Spade. Lo and behold, I clicked over to their website today for a little
inspiration and what unfolded before me was the most fascinating land of
branding, ingenious design, wit and elegance I've ever behold. It's enough to
make a girl go breathless.
1: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, find line 4. Write down what
it says: "this collection will be seriously to increase this dangerous tendency,
and" 2: Stretch your left arm out as far as you can. What do you touch first?
Leftover chicken bites from County Line. 3: What is the last thing you watched
on TV? Meet the Press at 3 o'clock this morning. 4: WITHOUT LOOKING, guess what
the time is: 12.45? 5: Now look at the clock, what is the actual time?: 12.41 6:
With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?: The server. Jennifer
pulling packing tape off the roll. My typing. 7: When did you last step outside?
What were you doing?: This morning, just got out of the car and walked into the
office. 8: Before you came to this website, what did you look at?: My website.
9: What are you wearing?: Black capri pants, pink sweater, black flat sandals.
10: Did you dream last night?: Yes. See previous blog entry. 11: When did you
last laugh?: When Drew told me Phil's mother in law jumped out of her car in the
middle of an intersection, ran around to the trunk to put something in it, and
realized she locked herself out of the car, and at this moment, the car is still
sitting in the middle of an Edmond intersection, still running. 12: What is on
the walls of the room you are in?: Yellow paint. 13: Seen anything weird
lately?: Define weird. 14(a): What book are you currently reading?: Make a Name
for Yourself, by Robin Fisher Roffers. 15: What is the last film you saw?: The
Patriot, on TV last night. 16: If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what
would you buy first?: A good credit report. 17: Tell me something about you that
I don't know: Um, that they say if you read 7 books on a subject then you're an
expert? 18: If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt
or politics, what would you do?: "Legalize marijuana :) The world would be a
much happier place." Ash said it first, but I couldn't agree more. 19: Do you
like to dance?: Only when very tipsy. 20: What is the last thing you ate or
drank? Chicken bites and Dr. Pepper. 21(a): Imagine your first child is a girl,
what do you call her?: Langley 21(b): Imagine your first child is a boy, what do
you call him?: Andrew 22: Would you ever consider living abroad?: Yep. A year in
France.
Super busy day ahead of me here. After my short stint to Boston, I'm quite
tired, and have to develop a backbone to play catch-up. To let you all know how
it went... After getting up at 5:20 on Thursday morning, throwing everything in
a suitcase and hopping in Kelly's car at 5:45, we were on our way. Two plane
rides later, we arrived in Springfield, Massacusetts and drove the hour and a
half to Boston. Dinner reservations were for 5:30 at Legal
Seafoods--fabulous--had a seaweed salad that was divine. Then we walked to the
theatre where Van Morrison was supposed to go on at 7. The portly fellow left
something to be desired, but the theatre architecture was fascinating. If there
is anything I love about cities, it is the architecture. Anyway, the theatre had
been built in around the 1920's, I guess, and not been touched since then. The
paint and plaster were peeling, the murals on the ceilings were faded from lack
up upkeep, the colors were bizarre, the place was trashed, and everything that
wasn't ornate Adam-style plaster was white marble. It was incredible. Van got on
stage and proceeded to be every bit the jerk we heard he was. They told us at
the door that he was liable to walk off stage if we used any flash photography.
His band was fabulous, and they played for an hour and half, all the classics,
great sax and jazz sound. Rocked. Friday morning we took a duck tour (you know,
those car/truck things that are boats, too?) that was hysterical--our 300 pound
tour guide was dressed as a viking in a SHORT brown fur skirt. He was great,
though. We went shopping after that--I got to go into a Kate Spade store for the
first time, and fell into heaven. I splurged on a new purse, and a set of three
books written by Kate Spade for a coffee table I don't own. We walked all over
the place, and finally headed back to the hotel to freshen up, then grabbed a
cab down to the Italian district. If there is anything I love about big cities,
it's the Italian districts. Cram-packed with restaurants, bakeries, wine stores,
and little grocers, it's unlike any place in the world. We walked until we got
to a restaurant called Limoncella's, where I ordered plain spaghetti, and for
dessert we sipped a sweet/sour drink called Limoncella. It was some stout stuff.
Before we left the district, we stopped at Mike's Pastries, which was packed
corner to corner, shoulder to shoulder. By the time I finally got to the front
of the "line", I couldn't see all the goodies in the cases, so I just told the
girl to give me "three of all small things", for which Kelly will never let me
down. $60 worth of pastries later, we caught a cab and drove to the Prudential
building, went to the top floor and had drinks. Saturday morning we got up and
walked through Boston common, went to Cheers and purchased the obligatory shot
glasses, and then drove back to Springfield through North Hampton, which had
some cute little shops we stopped and prowled through. Dinner that night was at
a local little restaurant called Sonoma, and then to the baseball hall of fame
bar for drinks, and then crash. [deep breath] On another note entirely, I had
this fabulous dream last night that I found a hidden staircase in my weasley
little bathroom that led to an amazing attic filled with all sorts of incredible
furniture and antiques that were left there when the lady moved.
Where do you start when you don't know what you want to finish? I've been
running around CRAZY since 8:30 this morning. Checked the fax machine, no
orders, which I can live with, since there are 6 boxes here I've still got to
finish before 5:30 tomorrow morning. I managed to design and burn onto CD all
the graphics necessary to complete projects before I leave, and drop them off at
all their appropriate printing locations. I ordered all the paper, envelopes,
and office supplies to keep Lindsey going when she gets here to help on Friday.
Still on the to-do list is drop off one last calligraphied invite, email Linds
her to-do list, call Brandi, mail printed samples, credit two credit cards for
small returns, pay the bills for my house, which I swear must be six weeks
overdue, finish my laudry, plan a wardrobe for Boston, order the materials to
make my booth for NY, crop pictures for Jody, who is showing up in 45 minutes,
take Aimee a catalog to pick a scrapbook from, place her order, and drop off
some final info at my parents. I think the problem with this to do list is that
it just flat out involves too many people.
as I lunch...I reflect, thanks to Dave Ray, who asked us to remember. Last
night, I dropped off some stuff at my bookkeeper's and found myself engrossed in
a conversation with her husband, Kenny, blog owner of The Syndicate. We talked
politics and blogs, mostly, a little business. He told me a story about a local
softball player--friend of a friend type thing--who off-handedly mentioned he
read this blog called AshlyBrooke. It kinda reminds me the first time Ash and I
were at the WD and ran into Kevin and Ragan. I remember nudging her and going,
"Hey, those are the guys with the websites." It's like I was starstruck simply
because I'd found them online and pointed them out in a bar. But it all leads me
to believe that this world is really a way smaller world than it leads on
sometimes.
I've decided that the only way to stay sane is to not work on the weekends.
Friday nights at 7, I leave this office, not to return again until Monday
morning. I can't deal with all these people, all this stuff, unless I do. This
weekend was therefore, FABULOUS. I had a garage sale and got sunburned on
Saturday, but it was good laughs with great friends and I can't think of a
better reason to be sunburned. Funny, I just called Irma's Burger Shack and all
their electricity is out so they can't make my Bacon Cheeseburger and their
ohsofphenomenal French fries I adore. Smack. That sucks.
I know this can't be good. The crazy rep called again today, this time bitching
about territory. I explained that those difference should be settled by her, not
me. I'm not going to be responsible for dividing territories. I'm a small, pee
on company, not some huge higher paper power. She replied that I was solely
responsible, settle it immediately, goodbye. The thing about this woman is that
she literally strikes fear into the very core of my being. I'm a strong person,
and if anybody is doing any manipulating, it's usually me. For me to feel so
strung out and controlled by her is surreal. It's not me. I don't know if I'm
stressed, or just over anxious, or both, but I'm afraid of her! I don't want to
deal with all her questions, her insistance on what I should do with my line and
how I should do it, and most of all, her attitude. Her "I rule this part of the
country and if you don't have me, you die." I would normally say FO, but I'm
afraid she'd badmouth me all over the industry. She seems powerful, over me at
least, and therefore, everyone. But before you go commenting all your band-aid,
quick fix solutions, or smart alec remarks, understand that this is the first
time in my life I've ever felt so helpless and hateful towards another person.
Merely her threatening undertones are enough to undo me. I guess I could call
her and have a grade school apology session and say "I haven't met you, but I
would like to say that your attitude over the phone is most offensive. I run a
small company, and while I would appreciate your suggestions, will not run it
according to your regulations. If you would like to make money on my line, feel
free to show it. Please remember that I have 49 other reps also telling me their
opinions and the energy I put into my day cannot solely be directed towards your
concerns. I will do my best to design a good line that sells easily, pay you on
time, and strive towards a positive relationship with all people. If you would
like to continue to work with me, I hope we can agree to these terms." I can
almost imagine the silence on the other end of the phone. Most people aren't
used to being confronted on their faults. It's something that dies away as we
learn to deal with other people. Bullies, in my opinion, need to be called out.
The only way to keep them from being bullies is to play their game. And I think
that calling her out, although embarassing, might be the only way to play her
game. We'll see what happens. If the phone calls and insanity continue,
guarantee I will say something. I have a very sensitive breaking point, and step
on me the wrong way and I swear snapage on all around me.
Today has just been flat out weird. Phone calls from whoknowswhere asking
whoknowshwhat. Just bizarre. Take my word for it. But it's gorgeous outside. I
want to go sit in the breezeway outside the front of the office and pack boxes
and talk to all the crazy smokey hairdressers that supposedly work across the
plaza, but are outside smoking all day. Friendly folk. I had lunch with a friend
who's kids I used to babysit for. She thinks her son, now 14, would be
interested in helping around the office this summer. That's practically
ingeneous, since I could pay him fairly, but cheap, and he's a really hard work.
And a funny kid, at that.
The crazy rep called at 7:30 last night and again at 9:30 this morning. This
morning I didn't answer. Instead, she left a message and I had my mom call her
back. I'm not being a pansy, she's just a terrible bully and I can't squeeze a
word in edgewise. But bring on celebrity boxing, round one: Crazy Rep vs. My
Mom. Anyone who knows my mom knows you don't screw around, pull one over her, or
get anything by her. By the time they got off the phone, I was quite sure there
would be no more crazy questions for awhile.
