Inventory: COMPLETE

Well, no, not actually. Like so many things in my life, doing inventory at Blue Willow is one of those uncompleteable tasks.

I love todo lists. I love writing tasks down so that I can cross them off. Tick, tick, tick, look how accomplished a person I am! So why am I cursed with a life of uncompleteable tasks? Is the laundry ever done? Only if you are standing at the ironing board stark buck naked. Are the dishes ever done? Only if there isn’t some leftover dish in the fridge. Is the house ever dusted and vacuumed? Only if the dogs are shorn. Is the store computer inventory ever accurate? Only if….actually there is no only if….in a word, NO.

Spent copious man hours (by all the bookstore staff) the past two weeks checking the store physical inventory against what the computer thinks we have on the shelves. It’s surprisingly tiring and mind-numbing. How can there be so many discrepencies? I hate just “adjusting” the inventory; I become compulsive about trying to figure out how things got off in the first place. And the more I look into it all, the more unique ways I seem to uncover about how things went awry. (Word to the wise: always check your recepts, people!) Being the closest thing the bookstore has to an inventory clerk/specialist, I am prone to feeling personally responsible (unless I can justify blaming someone else, of course.) We really are as close to complete and accurate as we’ll be for another year though, and I’ll be danged if some stupid five year old children’s non-fiction book that we supposedly found but have already lost again is going to deny me the pleasure of crossing off the “do inventory” task. 

Besides, it is time to move on to more important questions. Like, why, in the final load of laundry before daughter #1 packed up and went back to school, did I find ONE of her socks? I just shoved it in her carry-on. Time to pass the torch and let HER worry about where the other one might be…

3 thoughts on “Inventory: COMPLETE

  1. Found the other sock inside a previously packed bag. How it got there, I don’t know, but I’m also not going to ask questions.

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