Always Be Closing

I think because of my father, I'll always be a sales(wo)man. I'm always looking for the BBD (bigger, better deal) and also manage to get what I want...although that might be in part due to the fact that I am an only child.

But that's a rabbit hole for therapy, not my blog. I digress.

Granted, I also studied marketing in college, so I get it. There are tips and tricks to make consumers buy your goods. Although I haven't figured out Target's. That place must pump a mix of meth and heroin into their store because, without fail, I managed to load up my cart. Every. Single. Time.

Again, I digress.

Marketing, sales, I get it.

Here's where rubber meets the road: I dream about it.

Even though I'm not in a marketing or sales role anymore, although I believe those also entail herding cats which is part of my job now, I still look at campaigns, pricing, product placement, etc. For example, my cousin complained about the K-Mart commercial that played The Lights because it got stuck in her head. That's a genius - albeit evil genius - campaign because she remembered that it was a K-Mart. I tweeted that whenever I hear an instrumental version of Carol of the Bells, I get "Give a, give a, give a Garmin" with the ending of "Garmin dot com. Garmin dot com." Now that, is true marketing genius. I not only think about giving a Garmin, I repeat the website.

So anyway, about my dream.

The setting: A conference room with dry erase boards about.
The people: Me and a half dozen indiscriminate faces.
The topic: Meeting about Cinnabon cinnamon rolls.

Yes. I dreamt about being in a marketing Cinnabon gender roles. The guy leading the meeting said, "So, if the cinnamon roll is the father figure, how can we draw in the mother?"

Here's where I come in: "The frosting. It's warm, the best part, and it smothers everything."

Yes. I likened a mother to frosting because it smothers.

I'm amazing.

Oh, and just as my alarm was going off, the rest of the indiscriminate faces were giving me accolades for my brilliance.