I hate shopping for Christmas presents. I had to go to the College Town mall yesterday to get a present for my upperclass(wo)man mentor-person (she rules. Totally.). Any excursion off-campus takes almost as much planning as the military invasion of another country. I have no car. The car I drove at home was an unmitigated piece of shit and when I left would only accelerate over 35mph with a strong tailwind on a downhill slope (don't get me started on how many times I got honked at on either of the 2 -read them, 2- basic ways from our house to WalMart.) I could vent my spleen on that P.O.C. vehicular device until the next coming, but today I shall stop with I have no car here. *cries*
However, Monkey does poses (via parental units) a vehicle, and was willing to, yesterday, venture into parts infrequently traveled to assist me in the procurement of said gift. We arrive at the mall, go inside, and I immediately want to either find a nice, quiet bookstore or leave ASAP; however, Monkey had made me promise to not let her into any bookstores, so that option was out of the question. (Neither of us would leave for a few hours...she literally had to drag/push me out of the local B&N last time we went). Thankfully, we found the Bath & Body Works in the mall quickly (and no bookstore had yet reared its distracting, lovely head) and went in to get a gift.
Frickin'. Holiday. Shoppers! I seriously had to dodge around tables to avoid the hordes, walk stop-go behind people who stand on the other side of the aisle from the merchandise at which they look, and once I got my stuff was prevented from exiting by two guys (around 16 and 12, I'd guess) goofing around with sprays/lotions.
I hate holiday shopping. Last year I took the Hyperactive Hypersonic Demonspawn (8 at the time) to WalMart so that 'he' could get his Christmas shopping done (read: So that he could bounce like a BB in a boxcar off of everything/one and ask for a treat while I got presents to label in his name). on the 23rd of December!!! I am bloody suicidal. This year I am not at home (though I doubt the Dibbuns/Mum have presents prepped this early) and I got all shopping DONE save the one thing that needs to be bought fresh. (I do, however, still have to make rather a lot of biscotti for some friends here for whom I either could think of no present or could not afford a present).
Also, EGADS, the idiots to whom driver's licenses are issued! There should be reissued tests at regular periods to prevent people who should not be from driving. Of course, I also think there should be parenting licenses. (more on that later).
My back hurts. This chair is SO NOT ergo dynamic. Wood, pokey-into-backey, but it does rock! I think I'll need chiropractic help before I am 30. That, or a knee replacement. Ow. I just want to go home and sleep now. I still need to take exams (4 and a 'final critique') and pack...and make sure that I'm not leaving any food in the fridge or dishes around the room.
I did do three loads of laundry last night, and now it is actually possible to get to my closet...if you climb over the remaining laundry. I might need to cut out some clothes...
DINNERTIME! oh, Monkey's "5 Minutes 'Til Food" alarm went off. It's honestly not that good. I routinely make better, if not necessarily better of the same (without the gastro-intestinal side effects) at home.
I showed the Monkey my blog, at her insistence. Reading along, I noticed rather a few typos, mostly in the Oxycodone-influenced posts, but for those that exist, I am sorry. Most days I am just too bloody lazy to reread what I have written. Also, Monkey said she could hear me reading what was written...she says it means she's been hanging out with me too long. Fiddlesticks!
Au revoir.
~Brilliant (or Something)
1 comment:
I love your writing. It is more of that "other half of your brain" stuff. Because you write and talk the way I talk (and write, sometimes). Hang on, I'm confusing myself. Nevermind. Go back to your life, citizen.
Love ya'
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