24 hours later and I have received no bag and no job offer from Tastefully Simple. It's all right. I'm starting to think it was not meant to be. I suppose the honest way to have gotten one of those bags was to be a Tastefully Simple consultant. As there are quite a few of those here in my neck of the woods (See photo from my cupboard below) . . . well, it's all right. Life moves on. There will be other totes.
Story telling is a tricky thing. I had told the Southern Mommy story several times upon returning home and was met with blank stares. I thought it was hilarious. On Tuesday at ECFE I told the mommy-friends the Southern Mommy story, and they just howled. I didn't even get beyond, "I'm fixin'" and they were laughing. They knew. They had been at that mothering point. It's all in your perspective.
Later, at lunch, I tried to tell my bag story to my little friend Amber. Now Amber is a born salesperson, and she just didn't get how I managed to walk away from that situation without a bag. "I thought there was going to be a bag at the end of this story," she said. "No," I replied. "It's a sad story."
I also saw my friend Mary that day. Mary of this entry and this entry. She had sort of a smirk on her face when I picked up the dog from the kennel the day before. Sort of a look in her eye when she asked me how "Central Florida" was. When I saw her the next day I was going to tell some sort of boring detail of my life and she starting laughing and said, "Oh, I know! I read your blog!" Well, that made me laugh.
I mean a story is never as good the second time around, is it?