A totally wasted Saturday and damn, does it ever feel good. Not only was it wasted - I mostly just puttered around the house, going in circles, discovering that I'd bought the wrong vacuum cleaner bags, slowly tidying up the top of my bureau and that sort of thing - but I ended up taking myself out for some retail therapy in the evening and spent too much money. Yay me. I feel good about it because, you know, a person simply cannot have too many nearly but not quite identical black skirts. And I put the plaid halter top back because I think perhaps I am just a little too old for halter tops. Alas. Also, it wasn't on sale.
I went out to that horrible "mall" by the airport; the one where, in a triumph against everything that architects and engineers and even mildly green people have been saying for decades now, you have to drive from store to store. It's as much as your life is worth to attempt to walk from the freestanding Old Navy to the more or less freestanding Target because those soccer moms are out for blood, yo. But sometimes I go out there anyway because, after all, I am an American and there is something about fluorescent lighting and big SALE signs and relentless, endless loops of Elton John that warm the very cockles of my consumerist heart. Then this giant thunderstorm hit with insane rain and crashing lightning and the lights at Target, where I was attempting to buy the right vacuum cleaner bags (they don't carry them, the shits) went out briefly to a chorus of delighted screams from the teenagers who haunt this shopping wasteland. So I couldn't leave for a while which is how I seem to have come home with a Pilates exercise ball, complete with DVD of, no doubt, highly fit people exhorting me to bend a lot and three pairs of highly dubious underwear.
I was supposed to go to a party this evening and I backed out, which I feel bad about since it was a party for a good friend who is suddenly moving to DC, but unfortunately my whole self went into lameness mode and there was just no way I could be around people. Sorry, L - I know there were a ton of people there and I'm sure I wasn't missed - let's go grab a beer next week or the week after?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
1 comment:
I bet you have at least ten more good halter top years left in ya, and even after that you can still wear them ironically!
Post a Comment