Yesterday I got an email from the woman in charge of ticket sales for this weekend's luncheon; she was in a panic because we still had almost forty tickets to sell. That comes out to $1400 that we would be short of my estimated revenues, which, would have fucked my budget, royally.
At today's meeting, I was overjoyed to hear that we were down to three unsold tickets, thanks to the efforts of a club member who had appeared on a popular local radio show to talk up the event.
I was even more overjoyed when, by the end of the meeting, we were completely sold out, thanks to a woman who was attending the meeting as a guest.
My panic level has officially been lowered from HOLY FUCKING SHIT to WE MIGHT JUST NAIL THIS, AFTER ALL.
A girl can't ask for much else.
Now, I can concentrate on worrying about how I am going to look (and, sound) while standing in front of three hundred people, speechifying about our club and the good work that we do. The dress I plan to wear is lovely and fashionable, but, it doesn't do my fat rolls any favors (or, maybe it's the other way around?).
So, having determined that I would rather eat worms than appear before a crowd of women looking like the Michelin Man sporting a coat of coral colored spray paint; I decided that Spanx would be the answer.
Spanx, for the record, are really challenging to get in to. And, I'm not totally convinced that they are going to do anything more than make me look like an extremely uncomfortable coral-colored Michelin Man.
But! At least I will be an uncomfortable Michelin Man at a sold-out spring luncheon.
I have to remember to look on the bright side.
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