What’s the benefit?

It’s 9:13 p.m., and I just walked in the door after a 3-hour planning meeting for a charity benefit/gala/schmoozefest. Fortunately there was champagne. And cheese. And more champagne. And cookies. And did I mention champagne? It was my only hope for not dying of boredom.

And it appears that I may get roped into (gasp) ad sales. I am terrible at sales. Just ask Mom and Dad — they always had to buy me out so I could make my numbers selling pizzas, suntan lotion, raffle tickets and pork. (At least Dad won the TV/VCR one year.)

I am only minorly embarassed that I didn’t recognize the “benefit guest of honor” when she introduced herself to me. She’s the morning news person on the NBC affiliate. Whoops.

All this high falutin stuff is very weird.

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