A Promise is a Promise

Posted on 24 January 2004

I said I’d return to my blog today and “a promise is a promise’ – the title of a book I used to read to my children but I’m still recuperating. Thus the late hour.

I promised myself that I would take it easy today, that I would only go to work for a few hours but a new shipment of clothing had arrived – the order I flew down to Los Angeles to see – and I had to change the window, price the clothing, and rearrange the store.

Walter then hit with me a new plan. The Feng Shui woman thought that she might accompany us on our buying trip to Seattle and he wanted my opinion. I balked at the idea. (In fact, I thought, “what nerve. Who the hell does she think she is?” Walter loves her, thinks she is magic. Bah humbug.)

A buying trip is intense – hour after hour dealing with representatives showing clothing. It takes maximum energy to look, discard, choose, photograph. I work on instinct. I think I’m good at what I do. And the thought of another person coming and offering her opinion is too much – especially a strong women who has definite opinions and who may or may not defer to my experience. I would prefer to know her better and especially know that I can trust her. A buying trip allows no time for personality or taste clashes.

I told Walter this. He said “But you’re a strong woman, Yvonne.” Not that strong.

I wanted to write about the body today. I wrote long-hand this morning about it. Perhaps because I feel fragile, perhaps for other reasons. I’ll save it for another time.

Tomorrow, I go to a marathon write with my Plum women. I need to sleep.


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