Wednesday, December 22, 2010

First Non-School Related Blog, a.k.a "I don't want to get robbed at Target"

Hello Readers!  (I'm making a HUGE assumption with that plural, lol.)

Today I am overwhelmed with the urge to write, and I'm pretty sure it is completely influenced by hormones.  As per usual with anything that I write, I will look back on this post in a few days and think, "silence is golden, I shouldn't have said that...that makes me seem [dumb, impulsive, offensive, etc.]."  Yet at this moment, I am not deterred.

Today is Wednesday and Christmas will occur on this coming Saturday.  I intended to go to Target today to find something for my husband.  He has gotten me a few things, but I have gotten nothing for him.  He fully expects to get nothing, and I would like to defy his expectations, but there are a few problems that will forseeably prevent me from accomplishing my goal, and that is what I will discuss in this blog post.  These problems are as follows:

1.  I slept until noon.
You may be confused as to how this is a problem.  Allow me to explain.  During my early teen years, I developed a taste for extreme sleep.  This continued into my twenties and only recently have I become able to cope with only seven to eight hours of sleep.  While still living with my parents, if I chose to sleep until noon, I did so knowing that I would be plagued with mother-induced guilt for the rest of the day.  "You're so lazy," she would tell me.  "Why don't you get up earlier and be more productive?"  To give her what-for, I would wake up at a reasonable hour the following day, say nine a.m., and spend the day being even less productive than the previous day by watching copious amounts of television and refusing to shower or brush my teeth.  Clearly, I thought, this will show my mother that the amount of sleep gotten each session or the hour of awakening has nothing to do with the amount of production achieved in a day.  In reality, this did not work and my mother still saw me as very lazy.  So, to this day, if I sleep in later than I intend to, I feel terrible about myself for the rest of the day and attempt to achieve nothing at all.  Instead I am content to wallow in my guilt and think about how I am doing my teeth a major disservice by allowing acid-producing bacteria to hang out and destroy their enamel.  Thanks Mom!

2.  It is gross outside.
Yesterday was the first day of winter and the highest temperature I saw displayed on my car's panel was 79 degrees.  Seriously???  A cold front is expected Friday night, but until then, it will be warm and disgustingly humid.  Right now, as I sit indoors, I feel as though I just showered and did not dry myself well.  There is a film of moisture on my skin.  I can feel it in my hair and even in my lungs.  It is gross.  There is no better word to describe it, and if the grossness is this evident inside of my climate-controlled home, I shudder to think of what it is like outside.  So I won't be going out.

3.  People are getting robbed at Target.
It is Christmas time, and lots of people are out shopping.  Actually, this reason is a combination of a few things, the most important being that people are getting robbed at Target.  There is also the road and in-store traffic to consider.  If I were to venture out, I imagine my trip going something like this:  I shower and put on makeup.  As soon as I walk outside, all of my makeup melts off of my face and my hair suddenly feels like I washed it with honey and didn't rinse well (see #2).  I get in my car and head to Target, narrowly escaping several accidents in which people that don't normally drive much, but have to get out and get gifts, drift into my lane and force me into oncoming traffic, pull out in front of me and make me rear end them, or just plow directly into my car because they aren't paying attention, jamming to Christmas music, messing with children, etc.  By the time I get to Target, I have a white knuckle grip on the steering wheel and I refuse to go over 45 mph at all.  I park 4 miles away from the store in the only available parking space, which is between two other poorly parked cars that are sure to scrape or slam into mine as they back out while I am shopping.  I hike into the store and find some jogging pants for my sweet husband.  Two miles in to my hike back to the car, I am robbed by a man with a knife or a gun, and this causes me to release bladder and bowels to defend myself.  This, I think, is really smart because while I may be stripped of my money and my jogging pants, I am pretty sure no one wants to rape or kidnap and girl covered in pee and crap.  I call the police and they take my statement and description of the attacker.  They seem unenthused about catching this person, and I am sure it is only because they are certainly overwhelmed with so many outside of Target robberies this week.  I drive my scraped up car home, now daring that woman in the minivan to pull  out in front of me or that granny to drift over into my lane.  Flash forward to Saturday:  I open my gifts, with which I am quite pleased, and my husband opens his jogging pants.  He feigns delight, but he will always remember the day that his poor, simple wife got him that awful present for Christmas.  It will be that moment that finally brings about his decision to divorce me and find someone that is truly deserving of his awesomeness.  Flash forward a few years later:  I live in a box on the side of the highway and I spend my days yelling at traffic.  I still sleep until noon.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I am not going to Target today.