Worked today from 10am to 8:30pm. A lot of endless pacing, pulling nails out of the wall, and a lot of calls.
"Can I come in around two and pick up that sculpture that I bought off you?"
"Sure, see you then."
I see the guy at five. One of the staff members describes him as the guy with the crazy hair. I describe him as the guy with long curly hair. He takes the sculpture. Its of a guy looking at his watch. He bought the sculpture as present for his father. Nice. Always good to see someone thinking of different present ideas, and a piece of art is a good idea.
A woman comes in. I can't get rid of her, she's the type of person that once you start talking to an hour flies by and your still talking about God knows what. Nice lady. She paints the wall white. It finishes drying when she leaves. It's not white but grey, means I have a lovely painting job. Great.
I wait for a guy to drop a few paintings over. He travels down from Dublin, about six hours away. He rings me up.
"Hello," he says over the phone.
"Hello," I reply.
"I'm in Dingle, where is the gallery?"
"I'm not in Dingle. Who told you to go to Dingle?"
Poor guy, some idiot gave him the wrong information. He was doing it as a favour, turned out to be a lovely disaster.
I tell myself good communication skills, and time management is important. I go over a list of all the channels to go through. I do a analysis of the situation and realise I couldn't have foreseen the problem.
Though I tell myself, "I could have avoided the situation, by phoning the idiots and checking with them and see what information they gave the driver."
My mother pops into my head and says, "You can't be looking out for them 24/7."
I take her advice, go home and have Chinese. I wash it down with milk-- a mother's no, no.
Good nite, nite. I'm going to have a shower and wash my crazy hair, and then go to bed.