Of yours truly. I know you're all at home wondering 'what does Lauren do all day?' So here it is, a run down of my Tuesday, which was quite typical of the nonsense that endure everyday. Except with one twist, I got paid!!!!!!!!!!!! My first paycheck (read cash) since BHive. Woot.
Wake up begrudgingly at 7:30 when Mr. Paul gets out of the shower. We walk together to school, I run 3k home, shower and eat breakfast. My commute takes me all of 18 minutes door to door, counting waiting for the bus, and I arrive at HOFW just in time to get a text from Greg. "I've gone for a shower." Well, that's nice and all but it's locked and I don't have a key. "Go have a coffee and come back in 30." I go have a coffee and come back in 30. Greg's not there but the delivery man is with 2 palates (that's a shit ton) of wine gift boxes. Text Greg again. "Ok I'll hurry back." The delivery man, who speaks zero English, and I spend an awkward 15 minutes where I try to explain my boss is hurrying back, and he gesticulates his annoyance. Finally we're in and the day begins. Greg frantically runs around moving cases of wine, while I try to catch up on emails, input yesterday's expenses and invoices, all the while Lionel and Nana show up. Lionel helps with organzing our surplus of stock, Nana replaces stickers on foie gras and as I'm doing my computer stuff, I take whatever Greg throws my way. New invoice? Sure. Email a retail price sheet to these people? I'll get right on it. Fold and stuff 30 envelopes? Already done. I literally have my hands in all aspects of the business. Be it stacking (although this is usually left to the men folk), invoicing, answering phones emails, making truffle/foie gras crackers....I've touched it all.
And on and on, until Sean arrives and then things get totally nutty. Greg, Lionel and Sean scurry around our small showroom trying to get all of the deliveries ready to go out, while I'm in the office making sure the invoices are correct and up to date, and try to figure out who owes us how much. By 2 or 3 when the boys head out to deliver, I finally have a moment to eat while sending out more emails.
Then we have our visitors. Delivery guys stop in looing for documents. Their friends stop in looking for wines to bring to China. A shop owner stops in interested in our gourmet foods. It's quite action packed I tell ya.
As things start slowing down, and the visitors begin to dissipate, we\(Greg) get a call from the truffle lady in Italy. Greg's trying to negotiate a marketing budget, and she's trying to understand what's going on via a translator. I listen on, totally absorbed in the transaction, but alas tis 6:30 and I need to get home to tutor. I grab a couple of unfinished bottles from yesterday's impromptu tasting, bus it, eat my dinner standing in the kitchen with P, then head down stairs to tutor Nim Nim.
Yes, that apparently IS her name. She is 3 years old and wants nothing to do with the one hour teaching a week I prepare. It's actually become a tag-team activity. I sit in the mini chair on the floor with a book open, she runs while her JeJe (nanny) blocks the door and her grandmother scoups her up and brings her back to her chair. This goes on a solid 30 minutes until Mom comes home. Then she sits on Mom's lap, equally as uninterested in me as before, while Mom and I try to read some stories to her and get her engaged. She's not, but the hour is up and I collect my money and head 12 floors back upstairs to sip my day old left over wine and write to you.
Twas a pretty asa day.
The End.
Wake up begrudgingly at 7:30 when Mr. Paul gets out of the shower. We walk together to school, I run 3k home, shower and eat breakfast. My commute takes me all of 18 minutes door to door, counting waiting for the bus, and I arrive at HOFW just in time to get a text from Greg. "I've gone for a shower." Well, that's nice and all but it's locked and I don't have a key. "Go have a coffee and come back in 30." I go have a coffee and come back in 30. Greg's not there but the delivery man is with 2 palates (that's a shit ton) of wine gift boxes. Text Greg again. "Ok I'll hurry back." The delivery man, who speaks zero English, and I spend an awkward 15 minutes where I try to explain my boss is hurrying back, and he gesticulates his annoyance. Finally we're in and the day begins. Greg frantically runs around moving cases of wine, while I try to catch up on emails, input yesterday's expenses and invoices, all the while Lionel and Nana show up. Lionel helps with organzing our surplus of stock, Nana replaces stickers on foie gras and as I'm doing my computer stuff, I take whatever Greg throws my way. New invoice? Sure. Email a retail price sheet to these people? I'll get right on it. Fold and stuff 30 envelopes? Already done. I literally have my hands in all aspects of the business. Be it stacking (although this is usually left to the men folk), invoicing, answering phones emails, making truffle/foie gras crackers....I've touched it all.
And on and on, until Sean arrives and then things get totally nutty. Greg, Lionel and Sean scurry around our small showroom trying to get all of the deliveries ready to go out, while I'm in the office making sure the invoices are correct and up to date, and try to figure out who owes us how much. By 2 or 3 when the boys head out to deliver, I finally have a moment to eat while sending out more emails.
Then we have our visitors. Delivery guys stop in looing for documents. Their friends stop in looking for wines to bring to China. A shop owner stops in interested in our gourmet foods. It's quite action packed I tell ya.
As things start slowing down, and the visitors begin to dissipate, we\(Greg) get a call from the truffle lady in Italy. Greg's trying to negotiate a marketing budget, and she's trying to understand what's going on via a translator. I listen on, totally absorbed in the transaction, but alas tis 6:30 and I need to get home to tutor. I grab a couple of unfinished bottles from yesterday's impromptu tasting, bus it, eat my dinner standing in the kitchen with P, then head down stairs to tutor Nim Nim.
Yes, that apparently IS her name. She is 3 years old and wants nothing to do with the one hour teaching a week I prepare. It's actually become a tag-team activity. I sit in the mini chair on the floor with a book open, she runs while her JeJe (nanny) blocks the door and her grandmother scoups her up and brings her back to her chair. This goes on a solid 30 minutes until Mom comes home. Then she sits on Mom's lap, equally as uninterested in me as before, while Mom and I try to read some stories to her and get her engaged. She's not, but the hour is up and I collect my money and head 12 floors back upstairs to sip my day old left over wine and write to you.
Twas a pretty asa day.
The End.
No comments:
Post a Comment