On being famous...

So I have all of my National Posts stacked up in the back room like a total geek. I'm not sure what to do with them. Sadly I will probably end up using them to stuff bags here at the store. Just when I had come to terms with getting media attention and not letting my head get so big that I was forced to go out and buy a dog for my purse, I got a call from some photographer asking when was a good time for them to come in and shoot the store. Out of the blue. An awesome magazine. Not just shoot the store though, no no, shoot ME in the store. I was instructed by the writer who interviewed me to break out my sexy gear (direct quote!) to wear to work on the day of the shoot. So that day is today, in 45 minutes from now someone is supposed to be coming in to take my picture, and what did I decide was sexy you ask? Oh just my mom yoga jeans and a pussy bow shirt that has been in a dry cleaning bag since before I was pregnant. So yeah, I look like a damn mom from the 80s. Not a sexy one either. Like a red haired Angela Bower. Now they are going to be here in half an hour and I have croissant crumbs all over my top. It's a hard life guys.