In the past month, I've begun a new job, considered myself the victim of an assumed break-up with TMoMD, and needlepointed like a mad woman on my days off, when I park myself on my long lovely sofa and watch DVD after DVD. Usually, it's a marathon of "Downton Abbey", but I occasionally shake things up by watching "Cold Comfort Farm" or "Auntie Mame."
Today, I took the initiative and requested from my boss the right to clear out the clearance area.
You see, the clearance section - for furniture, accessories, etc... - is part of my purview. Discontinued furniture lines, dent-and-scratch beleaguered pieces, accessories that we're not so fond of anymore: they all find their way up to my floor. Today, we received 20 new sofas, chairs, ottomans, and loveseats from a leather furnishings vendor for clearance.
We did not have room for 20 new pieces, mostly because the stock associates just plop pieces down any old place when they bring them up to the floor.
I requested two stockers for a while, and received them.
Pieces that once were incapable of being seen by customers - that we sales associates didn't even know EXISTED - are now easily seen, arranged in walkable rows by type. Console tables and media centers now coexist happily together in one area, and dining chairs in another. The sofas are still kind of a mess, but we're working on it.
During my tenure at the store - with we will call Fabuloso Furniture - I realized that about half of what was in the clearance section wasn't sellable. A three foot tall amphora that couldn't stand because the base was broken wasn't about to leave with a happy customer. Neither would a clock without its inner-workings, or "mystery mascara" without a box that was several months old.
So, I emailed my boss to see if I could clear out the stuff that isn't selling and isn't about to sell. A lot of it was taking up valuable merchandising real estate.
He gave me permission to "use my discretion" and clear out what needed to go: hideous draperies we can't get rid of, iPhone 3 cases, dusty candles with large chunks gouged out of them. He seemed pretty happy with my initiative. So happy that he gave me a chandelier.
Granted, it needs to be rewired and needs new chandelier shades, but still, it's a chandelier. FOR FREE.
I know you're wondering what I'm going to do with a chandelier. I LIVE IN AN APARTMENT WITH 9' CEILINGS. No space for a chandelier.
I'm giving it to my sister. I sent her a picture of it and told her she could have it, if she wanted it.
There's also a really nice sunburst mirror - originally $650 because it's true gilt, albeit scratched gilt - that I'm going to see if I can make an offer for, along with a wood-framed mirror with cracked glass. If I can get my boss to agree to $50 for the gilt mirror and maybe $15 for the wood one, I'm bringing them home. They're both cool shapes, and I might be able to use them (after replacing the glass and touching up the gilding, which I am capable of doing and looking forward to doing).
In the coming weeks, I will be selling off my drafting table (or giving it away, because the thing is huge, and it's got to go), rearranging my office are and re-hanging pictures as a result, and deciding whether or not to respond to TMoMD's text message, sent today.
Yeah, about that.
I hadn't heard from the guy in a month. At least a month. I'd sent him a couple of text messages - one just a random "How's your week going?" and the other one a request for a do-over because I assumed his lack of communication was due to my lack of cuddling on our last date (long story; not going into it, here).
I was upset. I cried. I finally decided that, if he didn't feel like "manning up" and explaining to me why he didn't want to date me, anymore, then he was not the man for me.
Aaaaaaaaaand then he texted me, today, to apologize for his silence.
He's been really busy with work, and his parents are in the country from India.
He's been so busy, what with work and parental visits, that he couldn't take 30 seconds to send a "Hi. I'm really busy, but I'll try to call you, soon" text message.
Now, I'm trying to decide how to respond.
Part of me says, "Send a text telling him you're going to have to think about this one, because you were pretty upset when he disappeared for a month."
Part of me says, well, I'm not going to repeat what that part of me is saying, because her language is rather salty.
Part of me says, "Wait a month, and then respond."
After all, I'm a busy girl, too, what with rearranging the clearance floor, and all...
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Today - Wednesday - is the first day of my three-day midweek "weekend." The first thing I did, this morning?
It was wonderful.
The next thing I did was return three adorable pairs of shoes to Nordstrom. I bought them during their half-yearly sale, was incredibly excited about them, and looked forward to wearing them. I wore one pair my first day at work - they're black and cream snakeskin by Vera Wang Lavender, which I would never have bought if they hadn't been 50% off. The next day, I went to put on a different pair - black patent Franco Sarto flats, also super-discounted.
My feet wouldn't fit.
Bear in mind, I'd purchased the shoes only a couple of weeks earlier after a "hard day" of pre-work shopping. I assumed my feet were plenty swollen for me to try on shoes.
I was wrong.
So, this morning, I returned three pairs - the Franco Sartos, a peachy pair of Born flats, and a pair of grey and black flats by... a brand I forget. The salesman who received them didn't appear particularly pleased.
On the upside, however, the refund I received for the shoes was almost exactly what I proceeded to spend on two pairs of "formal" jeans for work, six pairs of "hidden" shoe-liner-thingies (so my feet/shoes won't stink!), and a belt. So, I feel somewhat better about buying gobs of shoes and then having to return them.
Why didn't I take the opportunity to try on some other shoes, you might ask?
Because of that pedicure, which was still a little tacky. That, and the fact that I HATE looking for shoes, these days. Trying to find comfortable flats for my 1/2-size-difference feet - which are square-toed but with a narrow heel - is almost impossible.
I know. First world problems...
In other news, I sold $7,000 worth of products yesterday (Tuesday, usually a very slow day), with what looks like a commitment to buy about $10,000 more from TWO customers (really expensive but well crafted sleeper sofa for one customer, and a law-office-full of seating for another).
I'm pretty pleased, with myself. Hopefully, my employers will be, too!
Posted by Strained Consciousness at 4:54 PM