inventory
(hannah and caroline and me, part thirteen)


some words don't have much of a chance, do they? some words are so soaked in negative connotation, they have little chance of ever bringing a smile to our face when we utter them. there are good words. pizza? mmm. i am smiling. football? a little bit of warm just traveled from the tips of my toes to the tops of my ears. beach? yes, wave, you may crash on top of me. and then there are bad words. homework? jeez, dude. don't you know dancing with the stars is on tonight? chores? no, really. i'd love to clean out the cat pan this time. coldplay? christ. and i thought u2 took themselves seriously. inventory? oh, god. not inventory.

the birmingham/tuscaloosa market of pet supplies "plus" has been sold to a group from michigan. this group already owns and operates four other psp's and will be looking to put their stamp on us sooner rather than later. to do so, they'll, of course, need to have an accurate inventory on their books to know what we have and what we need to get to start shaping our stores in the same mold that their stores have found success. that inventory is tonight. ugh. i'd tell you that i was excited, if by excited i meant that i was going to be forced to listen to the new coldplay album (again). i am working myself up for it to be far worse than it will be just as i do with everything. i don't even have to do much, if any, of the actual counting. i will just have to help clean up the store after the rgis inventory company destroys it doing their thing. inventory is just one of the pains in the neck that i never got to experience until i found my way to retail. it's a necessary evil. one that i can't avoid. one that i might as well suck it up and find a better attitude about. t-minus nine hours 'til go time. here's to finding a fake smile for my face.

as i (and we are) am wont to do, i'll use any real life excuse to get into the figurative part of my brain. spending time with (my side of the, for once) family will help accomplish that mission with ease. the last month has been a heckuva month for taking inventory on what i do and what i don't have when it comes to family. beginning the weekend of my and sarah's sixth anniversary, we had good times and normal times and not-so-good times with almost every important character in our family's story. good times with rebecca and emma. good times with sarah's grandfather and aunt and uncle. really good times with brian. normal (in a good way) times with sarah's mom and joseph. normal times (in a normal way) with my mom and ken. normal times (in a not-so-good way) with dad. back to good times with my grandmother and my aunt and my uncle and their loving family. not-so-good times with hannah. wonderful times with hannah. normal (in a good way) to wonderful times with the baby, baby girl. normal (in a good way) to great times with the wife. and that about covers it. pretty vague, huh? i guess so. sorry about that. i find that some of these posts find their way into being conversations in and of themselves. some of these posts find their way into being intended to start conversations somewhere way down the road. this is one of those posts. and therefore, probably not very interesting altogether.

inventory is a pretty ugly word, in my mind, most every time i use it. sure, there are good reports, reports that make you comfortable that you are doing a pretty good job at whatever facet of life that you are taking a scientific look at. but there are always bad reports too. reminders of, whether i am talking about my store or my story, there is a lot of room for improvement. goals that i can attain if i add a little extra effort. aisles that can look a little sharper and be a little more up to date. lives that can be touched in a deeper, more meaningful way.

inventory is an ugly word but a necessary word if i am being truthful about never wanting to be stagnant and always wanting to grow. to get better. to be better. to want better.

i hate inventory.