Spoiled Rotten

It's not just the name of the store I work at Sundays, it's what I was tonight when store owner Debbie took all of her employees out for a fantastic dinner at a restaurant called Nostrana. Our evening started with gifts - a luxurious bathrobe and a gift certificate for a massage at Cypress Salon and Day Spa, which we opened at the shop. Then we made our way to the restaurant for drinks and dinner. I tried my first smoky martini - a curious blend of vodka, scotch, and olive juice - and must say it was a hit, a clear sign I'm on my way to a martini-filled future. Then we started ordering food. And then more food. A bottle of wine. A few more drinks. Another basket of foccacia. Another bottle of wine. And then dessert. I had zuppe (barley soup), pizze (pizza with mozzarella, tomato, basil, and proscuitto), and a crostata with gelato (peach and cardamom pie with streusel and ice cream). Needless to say, tomorrow I won't be eating.

Working at Spoiled Rotten has been my pleasure. The employee discount certainly came in handy last year with all of the pregnant ladies I know, who now all have kids. And since Darr and I will someday eventually try to think about starting to attempt to have a family, I've been able to sock a few things away for our kid(s). (Darr wants two but I'm not quite there yet.) Plus, Debbie, if I may take a moment for a shameless plug, has some of the best merchandise in town. Retro booster seats, Sevi wooden toys, Hooter Hiders, Peepee Teepees - quality items for moms, babies, and kids.

Did I mention the box of Godiva chocolates? Yeah, we got those to. Admit it, you want to be spoiled rotten too.