I woke up today feeling glad I didn't have to go to work, however, I was also sore as hell from yesterday's workout. I managed to meander downstairs and got a hot shower. My hip was still so sore that I could not get away from the pain. I put one of those heat pad things on the upper part and then I found some Icy/Hot stuff that had a roller applicator on it so I didn't have to touch it. I put that stuff down lower. That should fix me up. Satisfied I was good to go, I proceeded with my morning, putting on make-up. I reached up to rub my eye and all the sudden, my vision was slightly blurring and my eye was strangely cool, but burning. I don't exactly know how it happened, but somehow, I must have gotten some of that Icy/Hot on my hand. For crying out loud. I washed my hands really well and flushed my eye. I seemed to have survived that trauma. I carried on doing my make-up and hair. I tried to get my hair to do this flippy thing in the back, but it turned out looking like I just got out of bed. And not the kind of getting out of bed that indicates I just had a good time, but the kind of getting out of bed that indicates I've been in it for three days with a hang-over. Well, not much I can do about it now, I guess I just have to "own it.
Satisfied I was ready for the day, I hobbled into the kitchen to make my protein shake and to take my vitamins. I'm still walking like an old man in need of an enema, but the hip pain has subsided a little. I go to get my vitamins, but one of them was new and in a sealed container. I got the kitchen knife out and was really working to get that safety seal off when the knife slipped and jabbed into my hand. Now, yes, I do know that was stupid, I do know you aren't supposed to direct the knife towards your body. I thought I had this handled. I am a trained professional. The problem is, I'm not sure what I am a professional at. I looked down at my hand, anticipating the worst, but luckily, just a little blood, no major trauma. My digits still intact and no meaty flesh protruding.
I decided maybe it wasn't safe to be at home, so I ventured out to get some errands done. One of them being shopping for baby stuff. I have a couple of friends having baby showers, so off to the outlet mall I go. Shopping for baby stuff is always a big old trainwreck of emotions for me. The part of me that wanted a baby so badly, but was not blessed with one, starts to go into maternal mode. "ooooo...look at that...." I'm always drawn to the girl stuff. And this time, I have two friends actually having girls. SQUEEEE! So excited. I have already purchased a couple of things on-line that I could not resist. Today, I find myself standing in the middle of Carter's, tears welling up in my eyes holding up this little pink onesie, with little pink hearts on it. It's possibly the cutest thing I have ever seen. Then, look, there is one with little yellow duckies...omg. OOOOHHHH, look at the little, itty, bitty jean jacket. O...M...G. You can make a complete ensemble!!! Oh man, now I just found a little cardigan for a newborn. It's so tiny, so delicate. I hold it, touch it, pet it. I match it up with the perfect summer dress. I can't take it, it's too cute. Soon I realize my little basket is full. Exactly how many people am I shopping for? I need an intervention. It is at this moment Valerina texts me for something, I don't remember what. I tell her I'm standing in Carter's crying over baby clothes. She responds back, "GET OUT." I can't. I'm too far gone. I circle the store again. Good Lord, here is a little set with seahorses on it. It's a pony...kind of. Oh geez, here are some outfits with little giraffes on them. It's too much. I'm over stimulated. WHAT? Sunglasses? Babies get sunglasses? Oh, shit, look at the little socks? So little...I can't take it. And then, the find of all finds, Unicorn underwear!!! WHAT?!? They were too big for anyone's baby, they were for potty trained kids. And, sadly, far too small for me. I loved them, but alas, I had to leave them behind. I go to check out and the girl asks if I want to get coupons. I decline. She says, "are you sure, a shame to miss out...blah, blah blah." Irritated, I say, "Look, I don't have kids, this is just a gift." She looks at me with sympathy, "I'm sorry." I leave the store. Oh, look, it's Osh Gosh....I cannot be stopped. Valerina again pleads with me to go home. I can't. I must see more baby stuff. Cute duckies, zoo animals, lace, hearts, socks...little hats...I'm too far gone.
Eventually, I manage to leave the store. I thought I would stop by Michael's and see what they had in there. I have nothing but time to kill. This was also a bad idea. I was only part-way through the store and I had already considered making jewelry, painting, doing a scrapbook and maybe redecorating my house. What the hell is a matter with me. I got in this one aisle and saw something I wanted on the top shelf. No one was around to help, so I took matters into my own hands. This was not my first bad idea of the day (to recap, Icy/Hot and steak knife). I get the one I want, and I've got it halfway down. I had this handled. Like I said, I'm a trained professional. Then, the box that was on top of the box came crashing down and the corner of the box slams the top of my head before crashing to the ground. Let's remain calm. First, did anyone see? Doesn't look like it. Be casual, be breezy, it didn't hurt, right? I picked up the box like it was a non-issue. I fixed my crazy hair, felt for blood or loose skin fragments. Nope, I'm good. Somewhere this was picked up on a security camera, I'm sure, and I'm going to end up on one of those "Stupid People doing Stupid Stuff" montages on YouTube. I get my box and carry on. My head is starting to hurt. I'm sure I'm fine. It's nothing.
I managed to get out of the store without any major projects, but I did end up with some horse stickers and some ribbon that was white with pink hearts and horseshoes on it. I really don't know what I will do with it, but I had to have it. At one point, I had a baby-safe My Little Pony in my hand. I put it back down. I must find some control. This isn't my child. I wandered up to the check-out line and was waiting my turn when some stinky guy comes up behind me being an asshat to his daughter. I don't know where he got his cologne or "Ode du Toilet" but it was probably at a gas station or in a dumpster. Then, his daughter has this wooden circle thing she is flinging around and she loses control and it comes flying up and hits me. I don't exactly know what the hell is going on today, but it is kind of like that movie Final Destination. I keep avoiding death, but narrowly. Okay, so maybe broadly, but still. Death is out there. It could happen in any number of ways.
I arrived home, and like any true shopping soldier, I am going to make one trip from the truck to the house. Never mind that it isn't a long walk. One trip. That's how we do it. I have my arms full of bags and my purse and some other random stuff I decided to get out of my truck and then I realize, my keys are sandwiched in the middle of the madness. I try and dig them out. I cannot. The key ring has now caught a bag handle and has threaded itself into the bag handle. I'm wrestling with the damn thing and almost have it free when everything falls to the ground. Mother. Trucker.
Finally, I am now allegedly safe inside my home. I'm waiting for Shark Bait to come home and protect me from any other thing that may possibly happen. I have taken a photo shoot of my baby clothes and sent them to Valerina. I have petted all the clothes and cried a little bit more. I realize, all I really need to do is go to Target and spend some time walking around and I will once again be glad I don't actually have children and all will be right in the world again. I'll snuggle with Spanky, dress him up in his doggles and uggs and a calmness will come over me. It's survivable. I don't know what will happen at the shower tomorrow, but I'll have tissue with me, just in case. In the meantime, I'm just going to lay low and stay away from falling boxes, sharp objects and topical creams. I'm sure I'll be fine...just fine.
Satisfied I was ready for the day, I hobbled into the kitchen to make my protein shake and to take my vitamins. I'm still walking like an old man in need of an enema, but the hip pain has subsided a little. I go to get my vitamins, but one of them was new and in a sealed container. I got the kitchen knife out and was really working to get that safety seal off when the knife slipped and jabbed into my hand. Now, yes, I do know that was stupid, I do know you aren't supposed to direct the knife towards your body. I thought I had this handled. I am a trained professional. The problem is, I'm not sure what I am a professional at. I looked down at my hand, anticipating the worst, but luckily, just a little blood, no major trauma. My digits still intact and no meaty flesh protruding.
I decided maybe it wasn't safe to be at home, so I ventured out to get some errands done. One of them being shopping for baby stuff. I have a couple of friends having baby showers, so off to the outlet mall I go. Shopping for baby stuff is always a big old trainwreck of emotions for me. The part of me that wanted a baby so badly, but was not blessed with one, starts to go into maternal mode. "ooooo...look at that...." I'm always drawn to the girl stuff. And this time, I have two friends actually having girls. SQUEEEE! So excited. I have already purchased a couple of things on-line that I could not resist. Today, I find myself standing in the middle of Carter's, tears welling up in my eyes holding up this little pink onesie, with little pink hearts on it. It's possibly the cutest thing I have ever seen. Then, look, there is one with little yellow duckies...omg. OOOOHHHH, look at the little, itty, bitty jean jacket. O...M...G. You can make a complete ensemble!!! Oh man, now I just found a little cardigan for a newborn. It's so tiny, so delicate. I hold it, touch it, pet it. I match it up with the perfect summer dress. I can't take it, it's too cute. Soon I realize my little basket is full. Exactly how many people am I shopping for? I need an intervention. It is at this moment Valerina texts me for something, I don't remember what. I tell her I'm standing in Carter's crying over baby clothes. She responds back, "GET OUT." I can't. I'm too far gone. I circle the store again. Good Lord, here is a little set with seahorses on it. It's a pony...kind of. Oh geez, here are some outfits with little giraffes on them. It's too much. I'm over stimulated. WHAT? Sunglasses? Babies get sunglasses? Oh, shit, look at the little socks? So little...I can't take it. And then, the find of all finds, Unicorn underwear!!! WHAT?!? They were too big for anyone's baby, they were for potty trained kids. And, sadly, far too small for me. I loved them, but alas, I had to leave them behind. I go to check out and the girl asks if I want to get coupons. I decline. She says, "are you sure, a shame to miss out...blah, blah blah." Irritated, I say, "Look, I don't have kids, this is just a gift." She looks at me with sympathy, "I'm sorry." I leave the store. Oh, look, it's Osh Gosh....I cannot be stopped. Valerina again pleads with me to go home. I can't. I must see more baby stuff. Cute duckies, zoo animals, lace, hearts, socks...little hats...I'm too far gone.
 |
| Cutest thing EVER. |
 |
| OMG, Unicorn undies??? |
Eventually, I manage to leave the store. I thought I would stop by Michael's and see what they had in there. I have nothing but time to kill. This was also a bad idea. I was only part-way through the store and I had already considered making jewelry, painting, doing a scrapbook and maybe redecorating my house. What the hell is a matter with me. I got in this one aisle and saw something I wanted on the top shelf. No one was around to help, so I took matters into my own hands. This was not my first bad idea of the day (to recap, Icy/Hot and steak knife). I get the one I want, and I've got it halfway down. I had this handled. Like I said, I'm a trained professional. Then, the box that was on top of the box came crashing down and the corner of the box slams the top of my head before crashing to the ground. Let's remain calm. First, did anyone see? Doesn't look like it. Be casual, be breezy, it didn't hurt, right? I picked up the box like it was a non-issue. I fixed my crazy hair, felt for blood or loose skin fragments. Nope, I'm good. Somewhere this was picked up on a security camera, I'm sure, and I'm going to end up on one of those "Stupid People doing Stupid Stuff" montages on YouTube. I get my box and carry on. My head is starting to hurt. I'm sure I'm fine. It's nothing.
I managed to get out of the store without any major projects, but I did end up with some horse stickers and some ribbon that was white with pink hearts and horseshoes on it. I really don't know what I will do with it, but I had to have it. At one point, I had a baby-safe My Little Pony in my hand. I put it back down. I must find some control. This isn't my child. I wandered up to the check-out line and was waiting my turn when some stinky guy comes up behind me being an asshat to his daughter. I don't know where he got his cologne or "Ode du Toilet" but it was probably at a gas station or in a dumpster. Then, his daughter has this wooden circle thing she is flinging around and she loses control and it comes flying up and hits me. I don't exactly know what the hell is going on today, but it is kind of like that movie Final Destination. I keep avoiding death, but narrowly. Okay, so maybe broadly, but still. Death is out there. It could happen in any number of ways.
I arrived home, and like any true shopping soldier, I am going to make one trip from the truck to the house. Never mind that it isn't a long walk. One trip. That's how we do it. I have my arms full of bags and my purse and some other random stuff I decided to get out of my truck and then I realize, my keys are sandwiched in the middle of the madness. I try and dig them out. I cannot. The key ring has now caught a bag handle and has threaded itself into the bag handle. I'm wrestling with the damn thing and almost have it free when everything falls to the ground. Mother. Trucker.
Finally, I am now allegedly safe inside my home. I'm waiting for Shark Bait to come home and protect me from any other thing that may possibly happen. I have taken a photo shoot of my baby clothes and sent them to Valerina. I have petted all the clothes and cried a little bit more. I realize, all I really need to do is go to Target and spend some time walking around and I will once again be glad I don't actually have children and all will be right in the world again. I'll snuggle with Spanky, dress him up in his doggles and uggs and a calmness will come over me. It's survivable. I don't know what will happen at the shower tomorrow, but I'll have tissue with me, just in case. In the meantime, I'm just going to lay low and stay away from falling boxes, sharp objects and topical creams. I'm sure I'll be fine...just fine.
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