The Glamorous Life of a Traveling Sales(wo)man

Remember in the fifties when there were those guys who went around selling vacuums door to door? I pretty much am that guy.

Being a traveling sales(wo)man is not quite as glamorous as it sounds. (Okay, lets be honest, it doesn't even sound glamorous…) It involves a lot of gas station food (see previous post on dining options in gas stations), crumpled shirts, and a blurry line between clean socks and dirty ones. Socks are meant to be worn more than once. Right? But it is worth it to bring Bon Lemon to the masses!



I am currently on day six of my road trip. I think I still have two pairs of clean undies left. I had a piece of quiche for breakfast instead of a corndog. The chaos in my car is somewhat organized. Well, as organized as chaos can be. I am writing this blog at a coffee shop, sipping an almond latte. Quite sophisticated, I know. If I can make it to day seven, I can take refuge at 6 Par Farmer's abode where I am quite certain I have a hair dryer, the best down pillow ever, a pair of running shoes, and possibly a sweater or two. And a washer and dryer. Gasp.



And then I will pack, yet another, suitcase for Arizona. Do they make disposable clothes? I think I need some. Or a personal assistant and a jet.