Inventory is finished, thank you very freaking much. I've been working on prepping for it since October, and I've been having nightmares about it since December, and then after a fifteen hour day...it's done. Or mostly done. So we have a hallway filled with things that we couldn't inventory because they didn't exist because they were odds and ends that aren't in the catalogs anymore and that aren't actually out because they're not really popular...so we'll still be working through it. But in a month, things should be all smooth sailing. Yay! Except that I did nearly snap at Efficiency for accusing me of making a customer uncomfortable because he heard me tell someone I'd cried because I hurt my finger.
Okay, if someone is seriously made uncomfortable because I said, "Oh, this? I grabbed a wall hook this morning and a piece of metal stabbed me and broke off under my skin. I was crying for ten minutes before Jay Jay finally managed to pull it out," then they shouldn't go out in public. Ever.
Since I highly doubt I made anyone uncomfortable, her comment, "Chanel, you really need to be careful about personal conversations. When you said you cried you made the poor man behind you uncomfortable," was unnecessary. And excuse me for saying so, but if THAT kind of conversation is inappropriate, then most of my conversations with my coworkers during long contracts and financing are inappropriate because in those I discuss my age, how long I've been playing, if I'm married, what bands I play in or with, and whether or not I act in movies. Highly improper because according to her I should only ever talk about what we sell.
In other news... Relly got engaged on Friday night (or in the wee hours of Saturday morning if you want to be technical.) I received a text message to inform me of this most auspicious moment in our family history.
A text message.
Highly impersonal. If I get engaged (which may or may not happen in the near or distant future to a man who may or may not be Padawan because I'm young and in love in Austin where things don't have to rush, rush, rush) I think I will have a little more class and consideration than to simply send out a mass text on my phone to every single person in it telling them all the good news.
I'm female. Call me and scream in my ear. I don't care what time you do it. I don't want to read it in a text message.
Great balls of fire, the world has gotten so lazy.
And my cousin's wedding is fast approaching. Apparently my bridesmaid's dress is blue with straps (thank goodness: I don't do strapless) and just above the knee or something. This whole bridesmaid thing makes me a little nervous, but then again...what could I possibly do to embarrass myself?
I mean, I nearly fell off the stage at my own high school graduation. Surely that's enough humiliation for a lifetime for one individual, right? It's on camera, and the family gets to relive the moment over and over again as often as they like.
Horrid thing, those video cameras. They should be illegal.
I suppose I'll be a bridesmaid in Relly's wedding, too, if they should ever get around to setting a date. Another chance to make a fool of myself.
Oh, and I'm going to a baby shower on the 26th, Loki help me. How I, of all people, got myself on the guest list to a baby shower when I
hate really don't like children is beyond me. But there it was in the mail the other day, with a family picture of my very pregnant coworker and her husband and toddler.
But I do have to say, I've met her boy. Bright little thing. Knows a cello from a violin, and most adults can't even boast that knowledge. And he asks before he touches things, which is astounding for a three year old. Perhaps he's smarter than the average bear. In any case, he's rather sweet.
But not for me, thanks. No children.
Padawan has put his foot down: Jazz will be my date, but he will not go to a baby shower. Too girly.
And since I'm going to this thing more out of politeness than interest, you guys must tell me: what do you think of me giving her a box of condoms as a gift?