For a while in my life I believed that one day, I, Kimberly Garrison(now Shearer) would be a CEO of a major corporation. I would outsmart attempted takeovers. I would double profits. People would look at me with admiration and fear wrapped up into one. When I arrived in the morning, my coffee would still be hot and sitting on my desk in a #1 boss mug my secretary Shirley gave me the year before for Christmas. I would of course make millions and give my family their reward for being so supportive. And I would do all this in one of those really expensive and chic pin-striped suits from Chanel.
What happened to the dream you ask?
Not sure. Best I can tell, I somehow was not blessed with the brain power to run a corporation.
Instead, don't cry for me now, I get to explain to a gentlemen who smells of cigarettes and body odor that the particular gift he is hoping to obtain for his wife can in no way possible be found for the amount of money he is wishing to spend. "What?" the smelling gentlemen asks in his raspy voice, while showing a mouth full of decayed and yellow teeth. I look over his dirty comb-overed hair to gain my strength so that when I have to breath I won't pass out from the smell. How do I tell him he is being cheap and $50 is not going to get him a three stone anniversary ring without sounding snotty?! He finally pronounces,"I better save some more pennies so I get the old girl what she wants".
"Yes sir, thank you for coming in sir."
I then return to my desk and as I watch this man get into his beat up car I think to myself, Is this what my life is going to be life forever? Talking to dirty, smelly men?