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June 14, 2007

My list is bigger than yours


Our internet connection has been out at our house since 8am yesterday morning. It's fine here at work, but I can't upload any pictures to posts from here. I guess we're involuntarily cleansing our photo-palette.

Today calls for a list. Unedited. Because I love to share my stress:


1. Call the psychologist back to ask intelligent questions and possibly make an appointment.

2. Try not to put head in oven

3.
Put all the sale signs up in the store

4. Put bright stickers on all sale items

5.
Go through the back room of store to find anything that should be on sale

6. Call the credit card services to notify them of our change of phone number

7.
Call Verizon to tell them they suck that we don't need to pay them a fortune for a business line anymore

8. Put a classified ad in the paper for the furniture and retail fixtures for sale

9. Buy a lot of Vodka

10. Locate a cooler for ice, try not to pay for one

11. Buy tons of limes, tonic water, regular water for teetotalers, snacks of some sort

12.
Start packing up the back room

13.
Clear out space in the garage for sewing things

14. Rent a storage unit for the rest of Dustpan Alley detritus

15. Remind Max that he has a mother, even though he never sees her

16. Try not to get too weary of talking to people about why you're closing the store, also try not to bite their heads off like a rabid dog.

17. Try not to think of certain downtown personpeople feeling smug about us leaving. Try not to think about how they will believe we're leaving because we've failed.

18. Try not to think about who is going to happily replace us in this spot.

19.
Breath deeply

20. Start clearing out the studio

21. Rip out the built in 1970's desk

22. Sandpaper the walls to prepare for painting

23.
Organize the cupboards in garage

24. Visit flooring store to find an alternative to the disgusting oatmeal carpet that is trying to choke me to death with it's dust and filth.

25. Don't fall down again

26. Try not to worry about starving to death

27. Stop fantasizing about insane asylums because you can't afford to be admitted to one when you don't have any work. Besides, there's no such thing anymore. Now they just put you out on the streets for some bracing "outdoor living".

28. Take our old cranky dangerous cat to the vet

29.
Call Dad in Tiburon and find out if he's had a wedding without me

30. Buy plastic cups for cocktails in store

31. Notify the Secretary of State of our change of venue

32. Notify the Federal Government that we are moving our business back home

33. Cancel retail insurance policy

34.
Oh god. Deal with all the paperwork that is multiplying on every surface like tribbles at an orgy

35. Clean the bathroom in the store (or blackmail Philip into doing it)

36.
May as well let the California State Board of Equalization know that we stopped doing business in California a year and a half ago.

37. Call the Downtown Association to find out about a table at the farmer's market

38. Read the book "How to talk so your kids will listen, and listen so your kids will talk"

39. Stop growling at everyone

40. Try to act sanguine about everything

41. Write a sample column and send it to absolutely everyone with a letter explaining how if they don't hire you to write a weekly column they will regret it for the rest of their days when you become a syndicated writer that everyone will wish they had discovered themselves. Yeah, you tell them! (Because braggarts are always so well loved, surely this approach will win someone over.)

42.
Try not to worry about everything that didn't make it on this list

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