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Friday, December 17, 2004
oh dear, another ramble. And it started out so... organized.
I don't think I have the energy to really type a real entry. So here, the abbreviated version of my day, in list form:
1. My feet hurt.
2. I found a sweater of the type I've wanted my entire adult life (soft, cashmere-ish, off-shoulder) and found that it was utterly unflattering on me. Of course, it was white, and ugh, white is, as aforementioned the epitome of "not my color." Someday maybe I'll try a black one, but I'm not holding out much hope. So there's another dream smashed. "'My life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes.' That's a sentence I read in a book once, and I say it over to comfort myself whenever I'm disappointed in anything."
3. Also, it itched.
4. I. Hate. Crowded. Stores.
5. Especially when THE AISLES ARE TOO DARN NARROW and PEOPLE PARK THEIR CARTS IN MY WAY.
6. I was "that person" whose problem with her receipt held up the grocery store line. I will never feel quite so malevolently toward "that person" again. It wasn't MY fault; it was the idiotic cashier (sigh. OK, that's not nice. It was the poor overworked idiotic cashier) who couldn't understand the fact that, when there are three cases of Diet Coke on my receipt and only two in my cart, he indeed had (inadvertently and with no malice aforethought, of course) overcharged me, or that I was entitled to either another case of soda or a refund for $5.99 plus CRV.
7. I did not blow anybody up today. (pats self on back.)
8. I didn't even swear. Not out loud, anyway. (pats self again, goes to get self a diet Cherry Coke from the fridge as a reward)
9. Something I ate did not agree with my lower intestinal tract, let's just say that. And it being a prime Christmas shopping day, the public ladies' room at Penney's was full. So my annoyed lower intestine had an audience. Beautiful.
10. Men's slippers are either way too cheesy, or they cost too much, especially when slippers are just something your husband kind of wants, and not something he's really really hoping to find underneath the tree.
11. I finally wised up and bought two tubes of toothpaste instead of one. That way, when either T or I (probably T; I rarely go anywhere overnight without him) has to travel somewhere, either the traveler or the person at home isn't stuck using blecchy bubble-gum flavored kids' toothpaste.
12. When you're in a hurry and you go to pick up takeout which you've ordered on the phone, it takes forever. Everybody knows this. If, however, you should happen to sort of look forward to a solo trip to the local "diner" (and I use this term loosely, and anyone who is familiar with the diner to which I'm referring will know why) to use your husband's birthday gift certificates to get a free and easy dinner at the end of a day from hell, and you've brought a book in anticipation of twenty minutes of sitting at a table, listening to songs you've chosen on the jukebox, the food will be done before you sit down. I just thought I would warn you.
OK, I think that's all.
Oh. Wait, no it's not. I have a survey of sorts for you people who read this. I had a nightmare the other night, in which my husband was leaving me for the accompanist for our community chorus (I will leave for another time the discussion of the huge billboards my dreams may as well have rented lately, to plaster with the gargantuan text "YOU ARE INSECURE". Or maybe I won't), and in my sleep (as well as in the dream), I distinctly -- well, I said, "You son of a b***h!" T was quite shocked by this. He says that that particular phrase is a swear on a level with the Big One. Whereas I think it's below the mid-grade swears, somewhere on a level juuuuust above "crap" on the shock scale. What do you all think? On a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being "darn" and 10 being, well, we all know what 10 is; it's the one my mom told me I must never even spell, it was so bad, after a kindergarten classmate had yelled it -- not spelling it -- at the teacher and I'd come home and asked my mom what those particular four letters meant -- anyway. Wow, what a convoluted sentence, I'm afraid to go back and try to fix it for fear I might get lost. On such a scale, where is that particular swear which I called my husband in my sleep when I thought he was a philandering homewrecker? Input please.
