There’s nothing quite like the thought of moving an entire bakery from one location to another to give one incentive to start consolidating, organizing, sorting, and deciding what to keep, what to give away & what to throw away. Sadly, my genetic make-up has predisposed me to making sure I am prepared for any possible major crisis. I have enough toilet paper in my home to sustain my town in the off-chance every household is hit with the stomach flu, I have coffee and candy stashed everywhere, and my bakery is no different. I don’t buy ‘a pair’ of kitchen dish washing gloves. Nope. I don’t even buy ‘a case’.
I buy two.
To be safe.
In case we have a ton of dishes to wash.
You never know.
This purchase was not one of my prouder moments, especially as I did the end-of-the-year inventory on December 31. 350 PAIRS of purple medium-sized gloves later, I am happy to report that we continue to be covered for gloves. No need to order more…yet. In fact, I just may leave behind a case for the next renter of the Stow kitchen. It’s good to be a giver.
Cleaning house is happening everywhere: at the bakery in Stow, at my home in Boxborough, in my car, in my laptop and in my life. It takes time, and sometimes the time spent cleaning feels wasted. Crap – I just organized my pencil drawer that no one uses when I should have been doing x,y,z. But…organized pencils are so pretty!
So worth it!
The cleaning bug hit my wallet yesterday. Old receipts were removed, as were out-dated insurance cards for the kids & discount cards for random stores I rarely visit. I also lightened the load by dumping out all of my change, and that’s where I found this:
This fortune has traveled with me for years.
At first, when I saw this weathered strip of paper bent in-between the pile of coins, I thought it was garbage. I picked it out and was about to throw it out when I stopped to inspect it. The message stopped me, physically & mentally, and I remembered exactly why I have kept this fortune & carried it with me for so long. Every part of this fortune resonates with me and reminds me how to conduct myself, personally and professionally.
What I have decided to do is to give myself a little gift. I’m going to have this fortune mounted & framed, so I can hang it in the office of the new bakery and look at it daily instead of once every four years or so.
The moral of the story? Cleaning is time well-spent, holding onto special fortunes is a good thing, and when buying dish washing gloves, tread with caution.