So today in the car, Emmy says, “Mom, why are you so much more better at driving than Daddy?” Oh my gosh, this is gold. I must tell Jeremy posthaste. So I rubbed it in first chance I got.
We go grocery shopping, then down to the liquor store (in Utah, they are few and far between, so it has to be a planned excursion), and we are just having a great time. The weather is beautiful, I am well-rested, the kids are sunshine and puppy kisses. I joke with the clerk on my way out of the store with my box of wine (don’t judge).
Then I back out of my spot into an invisible car.
Yes. I swear, I was looking out my back window, and there was nothing there. I’m pretty sure it was the ginormous blind spot created by the booster seat and the overall construction of my ancient minivan. But still, I should have seen it. I know there’s a huge blind spot there; I should have been aware before I even got in the car.
But it was such a carefree, sunshiney day. Who could possibly back into a parked car on such a delightful spring afternoon?
I can.
The people were super nice about it (I find that people at liquor stores here are almost always nice; I think they’re just happy to be among their alcohol-loving kind), but I had to eat crow when I told Jeremy what happened.
Moving on.
I sell Mary Kay now. I know, it’s super weird. It’s the last thing I would have expected, but, uh, my vanity got the better of me. Lately, I’ve been noticing deep lines under my eyes when I wake up in the morning. They stay all day if I’ve had too little sleep, or if I haven’t had enough water. I’m sure they’re invisible to the rest of the world, but they are driving me crazy. Essentially, I signed up so I could afford their anti-aging stuff. I already see a difference in my skin (especially my eyes, which have always been prone to bagginess), so don’t laugh. Even if it is all in my head, I can use the ego boost.
Initially, I wasn’t even planning on it being a money-making venture. I’m not a saleswoman, and the idea of pushing products on my friends gives me hives. The meetings are hilarious. I feel like I’m at a very charismatic church. Or a cult. I do love the camaraderie, but every once in a while I want to yell, “Guys! This is MAKEUP.”
But still, it’s kind of revved me up to at least try. Just a little bit. I don’t know how I’m going to do that without hitting up my friends, but I’ll figure something out. Waiting tables, I learned how to step into a persona that was far less shy and reserved than the real me, and as long as I’m not dealing with friends, I think I can do that again. We are completely debt free now (hallelujah!), but we still rent, and both of our cars have lasted far longer than we ever expected them to. They are ticking time bombs. If I can make enough to just kick a little extra into savings every month, that will be enough for me.
When we do facials, we are supposed to give an in-depth talk on Mary Kay Ash and how amazing she was. It’s like she’s Jesus (I am not even kidding). Folks, if I am interested in the product, it has almost nothing to do with the founder of the company, unless it’s something important, like, “She murdered kittens for fun,” and then I will say, “Sorry, I am not sure this is the company for me.”
So I will be skipping that nonsense. The Mary Kay Police (MKP) might pop into my home in the middle of the night, but I don’t care. The PR speech is a huge turnoff to me with other companies (exception: Usborne, since it’s interesting and also has a lot to do with the product, and I’m not just saying that because one of you sells it), and it actively makes me not want to buy their stuff, even if I’ve been interested in it before. I am not here to listen to a commercial. I’m here to put this stuff on my face and see if I like it, or if it turns me into a monkey.
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