For the holidays, the store is now open until 9:00. That would be p.m. when I am usually in my p.j.s.
Jude and I worked the late shift together on Monday. During those evening hours, we had about six people come in the door. One was drunk.
We straightened and dusted, refolded, checked the emails, spritzed the greenery, had some tea and talked.
Did I tell you about the pie I made for Thanksgiving? Apple, wasn’t it? Yeah you told me.
Should I get a real tree or fake this year? I thought you were doing fake.
Oh yeah.
I think I might get this sweater. I thought you decided not to.
Oh yeah.
Have you seen Lincoln yet? No.
What do you think Hilary Clinton is going to do next? I don’t know.
Did you see both episodes of The Dust Bowl or just the first part? Both.
I think I’d have gone mad with all that dust. Yeah, you said that the other day.
Did you see that video of the dog and baby talking to each other? No.
I can’t decide if I like Real Simple Magazine? Sometimes they have good recipes.
I know but all that organizing drives me nuts. Yeah.
Is Modern Family going to be new this week? I don’t watch that.
You should. It’s really funny. I know. I forget.
Did you ever wear tights that you have to yank up about every thirty seconds? Yes.
I think they’re making me insane. Yes.
A mere two days later and Jude and I will be working together again tonight. Not a single thing has happened to me since then so I think I’ll tell her the story about the time Jimmy Castelnuovo tripped me in Sister Morrison’s 4th grade class.
I’m pretty sure he did it to see my underpants. I’m pretty sure she’ll find it fascinating.