More and more of the suppliers whom I buy from are shifting their catalog pages to an online format. The positive thing about this is that I am notoriously under-organized (note that this is not quite the same as being utterly disorganized; for instance, of course I know where the Ferne Sales loose catalog sheets from 2003 are - they're in that pile beside the 1975 Mother Earth News collection, next to my daughter's crayon drawings, circa 1995. Some folks actually disparage this system, which is admittedly not very Dewey Decimal or Microsoft or politically correct or whatever. But the universe was created out of chaos, and if that principle somehow translates to The Lives of Middle-Aged American Women, then one day I just might emerge as the f**king genius I always hoped I was, the key to my brilliance simply lodged beneath a mountain of vintage Rolling Stone magazines and a cache of photographs of an old boyfriend).
It could happen.
So online catalogs for my shop is probably a good thing. But this morning I was sifting through the company pages of a particularly cumbersome inventory, and saw that it was over 200 pages. And every page, full of photographs and graphics, takes some time to load. So it used to take me twenty minutes to order; today it might be three hours.
Since I love to avoid cleaning bathrooms and scrubbing floors, I will forever have the perfect excuse to never find time to properly clean - gotta get my orders together.
Hey, I have to go, I have SERIOUS WORK to do.
NTD
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