Due to the now-you-see-it-now-you-don't trouble with the comment system, I've found another blog server.

The good part is that the comment system is built in.

The bad part - which isn't as hideously bad as all that - is that one must register to post. But it's free!

Here's the URL: http://www.xanga.com/home.aspx?user=TheClingingVine

Well, now I feel silly.

You'd think, considering where I work, I wouldn't get tripped up like this, but you'd be wrong.

Yesterday Don had a Really Fabulous sales day, God be praised! First one in years. We had a bottle of champagne in the fridge (can't recall why), so I bought a couple of Gallia Linea flutes so we could toast his success and drink the bubbly properly (our champagne glasses are the saucer type, which was standard 30-odd years ago).

Time came to wash my new flutes and put them away.

They don't fit in any of my cupboards. Way too tall! They're presently sitting in solitary, regal splendor on my kitchen counter, next to the spice rack.

So here's another caveat to warn brides about when they register . . . not only "Careful how many stems you request, for they take up lots of room" but "Mind the really tall ones . . . you can have trouble storing them." :^(

Dang!

The "comment" apparatus has disappeared again. :(

Maybe it'll show up as suddenly as it disappeared.

What IS it with people?

Foley's provides two elevators, yet if I had five bucks for every time I've seen people maneuver a stroller onto the escalator, I wouldn't need to work at all.

This is DANGEROUS, folks!

That escalator is 25 years old and has a nasty tendency to suddenly sit on its haunches and refuse to budge, meaning it stops without warning. Fortunately it tends to not jerk to a stop, which would really be bad, instead rapidly slowing down (is that an oxymoron?). As shaky a grip as some of these parents have on that stroller, however, it wouldn't take much to make 'em let go.

This is, I swear and declare, one of the most stomach-churning things about working in the tabletop area - constantly watching babies and toddlers be put at risk by parents too lazy to walk to an elevator. :^(

Promise me y'all don't do that!

Visitors.

On Wednesday the store had Very Important Visitors, which meant everyone - loosely translated, that means "management" - went ape in preparation. The Chairman of the Board is coming! To arns! To arms!

Well, alright, maybe not to arms, precisely, but anyway, we're all to Look Alive and Make The Store Spotless.

Naturally, there were two big trucks on Monday and Tuesday, which made our attempts to re'd up all the more challenging. Don will attest that come Tuesday evening, I was Officially Wrecked. Tottered home in a state of near-exhaustion and collapsed into this 'puter chair and didn't budge.

One of the big pushes was for Clean Terminals and Wrapstands. Get those notes off those terminals! Clear off the wrapstands!

Tell me, all you non-retail folk, do y'all actually care particularly whether or not there are notes taped to a department's terminal? Does a shiny clean terminal induce you to spend money you otherwise wouldn't?

Truth be told, I find this hard to believe.

Personally, I think the reason business (in the sense of numbers of $$ being hauled in) is down is because we're training our customers to shop not just when there's a sale, but it must be a sale with a coupon.

If I sold $750 total Sunday through Wednesday, I'd be surprised. :(

One of the pleasures of working on the weekends:

A husband who is willing to cook. ;->

This evening - okay, last evening - Don made homemade soup for dinner. Italian Sausage Soup, replete with spinach, carrots, zucchini, tomatoes, beans, and of course, sausage. Sprinkled a lot of Parmesan over it and yum yum . . .! That was good eating!

Well, Don and I thought so, anyway. You've have thought he'd dished up Creamed Cat on Toast to judge Charles' reaction to it. When do teenage boys' tastebuds mature past the pizza-n-hamburger stage?

A night in the hospital.

I'd forgotten, after all these years, just what that's like.

Interrupions. Nothing but interruptions. Incredible. Woken up over and over - blood pressure, blood drawn, EKG, even having some tape thing moved from one side to the other. Hospital staff entered my room three times between 5 a.m. and 6 a.m.! THREE times! And this, of course, doesn't take into account the rest of the night.

I was zonked yesterday evening.

Well.

Christmas is over. At last.

The New Year is here. At last.

Inventory is over. At last.

Wowzers! I'd forgotten what The Festive Holiday Season - including Pre- and Post- - is like in the wonderful world of retail. Lots of very nice people, with a smattering of pills and pests. I'm torn between vowing "Never again!" and thinking, "Okay, next time I'm gonna . . . "

What gets me in a twist is the realization (and I apologize in advance for the lamentable lack of humility about to be displayed) that Retail is what Anne Does Best, at least regards outside employment. Contrary to popular opinion, not everyone is good at working with the public, learning stock, resolving problems, etc. The ability to handle all those elements is what makes someone good in the realm of retail.

I can do it.

Gee, how neat! How exciting! I excel in one of the lowest paid fields out there. Ain't I the lucky ducky?

But then I think, "So? What's up with using the Fallen World's gauge for success? The more money a position pays translates into a more important job?"

Professional football players make lots more than I do, but let's face it . . . when was the last time anyone really needed a professional football player?

Judging by the desperate expressions on the faces of those wandering the aisles, searching for someone to help them, we store salespeople can have a far more immediate, personal, and practical impact on a person's life.

Pretty cool. ;->