Ready to scream...

There's a big event happening in a couple of weeks at work. Well, technically not at work, but it's a work event that's taking place in London.

Anyway.

In better days, there wouldn't have been as big of a focus on sales and inventory levels, blah blah blah. It would have been a big party and, hey - we made money, too? Awesome!

But these are tougher days. Leaner days. And every penny counts these days.

Which is where I come in. I'm the one who gets to provide cost data and retail estimations. My function is kind of like that of a computer program: I do as I'm told. Want to know costs and retail pricing on five items? Done. But if you want to know costs and retail pricing on items that don't exist in the system, you're kind of SOL.

Except that I'm somehow supposed to be a mind-reader. I'm supposed to know what people on the other side of the Atlantic are thinking and doing. I'm supposed to divine meaning from the word "blanket" and come up with a cost and retail price for it.

I have a headache now. And I want to go back to bed.