This Post Makes My Feet Hurt

Wait, that's not it . . . standing all day in a trade show booth by myself makes my feet hurt? Yeah, that works better.

I've basically had to man the booth alone this time. My partner in crime had a death in the family and had to leave. While I COMPLETELY understand his having to go and actually made him leave sooner than he really wanted to, I must be honest and say that standing in a booth all day ALONE, trying to talk to eight million people all at once and watching a line form is priceless, in a bad way. I have almost lost my voice from talking so much and I'm SO sick of saying "we're a true end-to-end eCommerce platform . . ." I could pull out my vocal cords.*

On the plus side, I had an AWESOME hair day. I wish I had taken a picture of it to show you because it doesn't happen often and today convinced me NOT to cut it all off. I had been thinking lately that I might, just to mix it up, but a good hair day will do a lot to convince a person that almost six years of growing our your hair CAN in fact pay off. The only bad part of having a good hair day today is that only the DOM (Dirty Old Men) at the trade show saw it and my husband did not. What a waste.

Palm Desert is absolutely breathtaking. It's eighty degrees and yet I can see snow on top of the peaks close by. The hotel is gorgeous and my bed is dreamy comfortable with oodles of pillows to cuddle up with. I had my favorite meal last night at Tuscany (as planned) and tonight we had Tepanyaki. I can forgive my company for making me man the booth for twelve hours a day because I eat like a queen on these trips.

Maybe standing all day burns off the calories and I should be grateful for the chore. Hmmm interesting thought. Maybe I can do jumping jacks in the booth to attract attention AND burn calories. I might have to think hard about that. I could be made famous as the exercising booth babe!! I'm going to present the idea to management** as soon as they decide to exit the bumpin' party I can hear going on down in the dance club. A visual I decided to completely avoid, thus my being IN my room, not watching them dance. Ew. Seriously. Ew.


*This was a description used only to express my extreme hatred of the phrase. I would NEVER in a million years pull out my vocal cords. I spent way too many years (and dollars) learning how to use them. Also, I like to hear myself talk. So parental units who paid for my voice lessons and college education in singing, never fear. My cords are safe and sound, tucked in and sleeping comfortably in their warm, vocal cord home.

**My chances are not good. This is the same management team who shot down my idea to have "Marketing Superstar" as the title on my business cards. They have no imagination. Class, yes. Imagination? Not a drop.