Some scattered business observations . . .

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Dogs, music, and BJ’s


. . . sounds a little raunchy, but remember the source.

       How hard is it to keep your stomach from gurgling with anxiety when you’ve got blog posts to put up and articles that need writing and editing, and the hours tick by, while no one at the cable company knows more than to tell you that your connections are not functioning?  Duh!  Uh, we called you, remember? 

     So me, the great 30-year teacher of stress management needs to . . . well, you know the rest. 

       A little diversionary follow-up report to yesterday’s post, btw, is that the BJ’s I mentioned, that had the gall to charge prospective customers for the privilege to shop in their new (197th) store, opened today.   

     The most telling comment I heard was that there were more people inside the store at any given moment of the day than live in the entire town (and probably four surrounding towns as well).  So that just goes to show you how little I know about what works anymore in retailing.  Who woulda thunk it?  Right, BJ’s! 

       But the good news is that the store is 100% perfect, bright, cheerful, beautifully laid out, lots of quality merchandise at very low prices, and offering a huge selection.  Just too crowded!  Oh, well.  We’ll try it on a weekday.  I’ll let you know.  Humpf!  

     I just wrote a reminder note for Monday Vet checkup appointment for my two dogs and that stool samples are needed.  Best place to put it is with my papers for early morning meeting with clients so I remember to get on the road asap after the meeting.  Hope the note doesn’t fall out.  “Bring poop samples to next meeting!” might be hard to explain.

       It’s weird to be typing this in Word instead of my friendly little blog window. 


I was reminded today of two things you can never get back:

the stones you throw and the words you use.


     Belated Happy Birthday to my son the musician.  We spoke (and I sang!) on his day, 12/11, but I hadn’t yet managed to squeeze Christopher into my blog.  Anyway, he sent me the following link that he ran across: . . . a pretty cool solo performance no matter what your level of music interest.

       Oh, right, dogs.  So now you know the slow motion truth of my brain activity.  But since you already know about their poop, you should want to know that one’s an all black 5 year-old cocker spaniel, Tuckerton (he’s named after NJ’s Tuckerton Seaport, a mile from where we once lived), and the other’s an 11½ year-old golden retriever, Barnegat (she’s named after NJ’s Barnegat Bay, where we once welcomed the waves onto our front yard).  Now you know why I’m not moving to Machipongo, VA, anytime soon.  

     I promise more substance tomorrow, assuming the great awakening of my cable company.  In the meantime, have a wonderful night.   halalpiar

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