Category Archives: life

impractical shoes and failures in bulk-buying

A Pretty Penny | Jeans and a Tee
{ Blank Denim jeans; Aeropostale tee; Jessica Simpson bag & Mateo suede booties via Hautelook }

 

Hey-o! Look who forgot she’s a blogger last week…

I woke up this morning completely exhausted from the holiday weekend and made plans to be out of the shop by noon so I could enjoy a leisurely afternoon with my ratty sweatpants and a borrowed DVD set of the first season of Shameless.

I threw on my favorite jeans and an ambitious pair of never-worn-but-very-loved shoes, and made my way to work. My staff knew I was hightailing it out of there early as soon as they spotted my feet. Anything over a 2″ heel means I’m not sticking around long.

I decided the morning would go faster if I ran all the deliveries, so I took the first load to one side of the county and then then the second to the other. My last trip wrapped up dangerously close to the Sam’s Club. I’ve been itching to reinstate my membership, and if I run out of toilet paper again I’m going to scream, and one thing led to another… $45 and a very awkward photo later, I was a card-carrying insider to all things bulk.

I walked all over that giant box store, oblivious to any feet discomfort, because it’s difficult to concentrate on anything when you’re surrounded by 10-lb tubs of mayonnaise.

After an hour of aimless wandering, I filled my cart with God-knows-what (essentials, duh) and headed to the checkout. I found a reasonably-populated line and carefully unloaded my treasures onto the belt: 50-roll packs of paper towels and toilet paper, cases of Pellegrino and Luna protein bars, 8-packs of Clorox wipes, enough hand soap to keep us sanitized through winter, etc. Oh, and an $8 paperback copy of The Fault in Our Stars, which I’ve been dying to read.

My total? $189. A steal, really!

I reached into my bright yellow crossbody, extracted my credit card, prepared to swipe… and then the cashier sweetly dropped a bomb. “Oh, I’m sorry, we don’t take Visa charge, unless it’s a debit.” She went on to explain the types of payment they do accept, none of which I had immediately available. I always carry a checkbook! Except today.

I was flummoxed. And screwed; I only had two [now useless] Visa credit cards and a $20 bill on my person. All I wanted was to get my gigantic paper products and snacks off the belt and into my car.

Suddenly my feet hurt.

As people piled up behind me in line and I tried to wrap my brain around the [increasingly embarrassing] situation, I became that annoying customer who mumbles useless statements ad nauseam:

“You don’t take Visa charge? Who doesn’t take Visa charge? I had no idea you didn’t take Visa charge.” Repeat.

After exhausting every option I could think of — “Do you take Paypal?Of course they don’t; this isn’t the Internet, Keira — the seriously kind and patient cashier put everything back in my cart and sent me to customer service to apply for a Sam’s Club credit card.

I considered it… I really wanted those paper towels, dammit! Then I came to my senses. Another credit card is the last thing I need. Defeated and dejected, I pushed my full cart to the side and made my way to the exit.

But wait! I wasn’t leaving empty-handed. I went back to my abandoned cart, dug out the paperback, and used the cash I had on hand to make it mine.

So I kind of spent over $50 and an hour on The Fault in Our Stars?

It better be good, John Green.

Sam’s, I’ll be back for you; and next time I’ll be ready.

About these ads

stick a fork in it.

Processed with VSCOcam with f2 preset

Reporting live from my back patio. In the jeans I’ve worn for at least 5 of the previous 9 calendar days. Eating peanut butter straight from the jar. Trying to form coherent sentences. Coming up short. 

Y’all. I am so tired. That’s pronounced “tarred,” bee-tee-dubs, which is the extreme southern version of plain ol’ tuckered out exhaustion.

I’m going on record (the record being this blog because no one else cares) to say that the last seven days have been some of the most challenging of my short floral career. Not the worst, mind you, but nonetheless difficult. With the help of my godsend of a new employee, we powered through two events, a wedding, a prom and a basket full of everyday orders. All told we designed and delivered nearly 150 pieces.

Just the two of us.

It was equal parts exhausting and exhilarating to finish all that work on our own, but I think I can speak for both of us when I say we’re in no hurry to try it again.

I’m settling back into a normal routine this week, and trying not to panic at the sight of Mother’s Day just a few rows away on my calendar…

Anyone want to come work at a flower shop? ;-)

let’s do this, april.

20140331-112640.jpg
{ a day that begins in a garden center is a good day. }

Dear First Week of April,

I’m ready for you.

I know March and I had some issues, but if it’s cool with you, I’d like to wipe the slate clean and start fresh. Good? Good.

Let’s start by crossing all our appendages that I avoid the flu that incapacitated C and half his office over the weekend; ain’t nobody got time for illness right now.

On the books: two banquet luncheons (16 tables each), a large wedding, and a prom. Oh, and did I mention our designer is taking a vacation this week?

So yeah. Rally time, white blood cells.

Happily, our new team member is learning faster than I could’ve hoped, so I know we’re going to kill it.

It might kill us…

Let’s put Starbucks on speed-dial, for good measure.

And stock the wine stash.

We got this. 

Signed,

Slightly-Overwhelmed but Incredibly Grateful Florist