ever go through your day and think "is this a joke?"
I started off my day meeting a friend for coffee, then headed to three styling appointments. The first two meetings, amazing, awesome clients. My third client almost put me over the edge (she's older than dirt, so she won't be reading this. she can barely use her cell phone let alone turn on a computer). She literally told me "don't move my shit". I half wanted to laugh (she's a pain in the ass, but the cutest little, old pain in the ass) Her family hired me to "freshen up" the look and feel of her 1920's home (which is coincidently the last time her "shit" was moved) as a birthday present. Umm, I'm thinkin' she's not thinkin' this was a present. I think her family sent me in there because they couldn't do it/her. This particular project has me thinking my contract should read "if you are hiring me on behalf of someone else, I must be informed if said client is certifiably crazy, and does not like their "shit" touched. I thought this was implied in the scope of the project AND in the word 'styling'. If we both survive this process, it will be a tiny flippin' miracle.
I long ago decided, no matter how small or silly something may seem to someone else, if it makes me happy, do it. So, to overcome a less than ideal day, I picked up pink tulips, turned the music on, gathered my stuff, sat my ass down on the couch in my office and finished up some work. And, now, a margarita . . .