Some Kind of Penance
Last week marked my six month in Avon. I didn't notice until this morning, when I counted back on my fingers to the days I barely made it outside my home to deliver brochures. Six months. Feels like six centuries, like six bags of cement, like six overnight parties with six six-year-old boys. Six months.
So, to honor my continuing commitment to the crazy world of door to door cosmetic sales, I looked inside all the boxes lining my office. Too many boxes, filled with too many sale items, all those 'Stock Up' sales Avon likes to toss at her representatives. Geeze. I didn't realize how many things I hoarded. A lot of money tied up in those tubes. I took a stack of old clear plastic "What's New" Avon bags - because those changed size with the new brochures this campaign - and stuffed one homeless item into each pouch, and headed for the Barrio.
I left a free piece of Avon at all the poor homes, swinging in the salt air, hanging from the door, all labeled with a note saying "Gracias."
Now my office has room, I feel lighter, ready to face another grueling six months, and Latina ladies all over town are having Avon Christmas and painting each other with the soon discontinued colors of summer.
7:36:48 PM 
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