Rehab for Interior Decorator

Lucky day for you, I'm the Blogger Queen du jour. I know you probably have a lot of friends and you're a big deal and everything (most of us are like that). But here is an important life lesson for you to ponder today.

You see, I'm a celebrity blogger now that I've been asked to contribute to Petunia Face. This has completely gone to my head and I'm making unreasonable demands upon my personal assistants today. Not really, I don't have any, but I'm thinking about calling desperately unemployed people and telling them that I'm interviewing for a new intern and see if they'll bite.

I'm sick of these unemployed people all around me. They're really bringing me down. When people ask me what I "do" and simply say "I'm a blogger" and then I watch them swirl it around in their mouth as if I've just told them "Oh, you liked my rat casserole?" [sweetly smiling]

Then they ask the question always thinly threaded with disapproval "Can you make money at that?" for which my answer is "Yes, but mostly I just do it for the free sex."

Let me tell you about my last career that I NEVER EVER talk about ... Interior Decorator. I owned my own little company for seven years. I learned a lot about people and money. My favorite clients were "normal" families who did their best to get by. I'd come in with some salvaged paint from Kelly Moore and some fabric and by the end of the day their lives had changed. It was just like those makeover shows on T.V. They were so happy and grateful and proud. They couldn't wait to have the neighbors and family come over and see the transformation. It was like being a midwife.

Then there were the ridiculously wealthy people. I would spend months and months doing presentations, sampling, resourcing, computer layouts, and placating. I kissed so much ass that my lips looked like Angelina Jolie in anaphylactic shock. Right and left I'd have to give them a credit, return this pillow, discount a service and I'd get nickled and dimed to death. At the very end, when I'd given them everything they wanted, and sometimes against my suggestions, they never had the enthusiasm and happiness of the "normal" people. They never said "I can't wait to have my family over for Christmas!"

I've been rich and miserable. I've been poor and happy and let me tell you something important my friend: Rich really is much better.