Sunday, February 27, 2022
(“Cold Moon” @ “Waning Crescent”; New Moon is “Worm Moon” @ 3/1, fullest @ 3/18.)
Yesterday, in my part-time job in the feed store, I straightened and stacked articles of wear in the store’s upscale clothing department. The Western-themed section offers items designed for men and women, ranging from jeans, jackets, and shirts to shoes, hats, and jewelry. I enjoy being there doing work that primarily involves tidying up.
My job is re-folding jeans that customers have pulled from shelves to examine or try on. The store requires folding items in specific ways to stack neatly, to look new and inviting. I’m a rather lax housekeeper at home and had anticipated that work with clothing wouldn’t appeal. But it does. I really care about how well I’m folding, stacking, and straightening.
That activity is returning me through time and space to something I don’t recall ever giving a thought to. I happen to be the daughter of a top merchandiser and salesperson. My father owned and operated several stores, a music store, a jewelry store, and a shoe store, each in individual sections of an elongated building. He passed away while I was very young, but through the years, I’ve heard relatives who once worked for him speak of my father’s excellent managing and sales skills.
That’s been an epiphany. A sudden glimmer of what charges my motivation to work with and handle for-sale clothing compulsively and correctly.
Should I postulate boldly that folding clothing might be making me discover more of myself? That it is encouraging me to re-think myself, adjust internal assessments of my capabilities?
That’s all this morning because time’s short. I’m to help open the store.
Dear Friends: It’s all fun, kind of odd-funny, and also weirdly motivating. Diana