CVS - Those Bastards...

Going to CVS makes me extremely nervous. I've found that you can't go into CVS and not spend money, and it's always more than you thought you would spend. I think this might be especially true for women, because we have to buy all kinds of scary beautification products so that guys won't think we look hideous. (While claiming that they don't like women who wear too much makeup. Trust: if we all stopped wearing blush and doing our hair, there would be a manly revolt.)

Plus CVS is like Costco: they sell all kinds of shit that no one actually needs, but when you're caught up in a buying frenzy, you suddenly believe you are rich and that you desperately need a dancing Santa with flashing lights that runs on 17 D batteries and plays Jingle Bells in an endless loop. And at $34.99 it seems too good to pass up.

So basically, every time I pass the CVS or head into it, I panic. How far over budget will I go this time? Will I end up with 6 tubes of full-fat Pringles, 3 overpriced Loreal products and a ridiculously large loop of Goody hair elastics? Again? Probably. Which is how, approximately 1 week ago, I ended up with 2 boxes of CVS brand Christmas lights. (CVS brand items are the worst offenders. They sneak up on you with their yellow CVS tags screaming, "I'm on sale! And I'm so NECESSARY! And you have a CVS card! Plus, I look just like real !") Anyway, so I decided I needed these Christmas lights, called Merry Brites brand but really just CVS dressed up for the holidays. Then I got home and realized that one box was entirely unnecessary.

Paaanic time! Because my mind starts racing: Does CVS have a return policy? What is it? Where is the receipt? What if they won't take my return without the receipt?

Today I marched my $2 Merry Brites over to CVS and waited 10 minutes to return them, sans receipt. What do those dummies give me, but a CVS MoneyCard... yes that's right, they now also carry little plastic signs of the devil: gift cards. But mine only carries a balance of $2. WTF?! When was the last time I walked into CVS and only spent $2??!! This is just a ploy to get me to go in there and spend my borrowed money!! The guy actually had the nerve to call it a coupon... WHAT? It's not a coupon! It's my $2 which you have STOLEN and placed on a CVS giftcard, so that I am forced back into your evil empire in order to make use of it! Crap!

Now I have this card mocking me every time I open my wallet, and it's making me reeaaallly panicky. Spend it? Go back to CVS? What to do, what to do? Damn CVS! (And Rite Aid, and Walgreen's, and Duane Reed...)

Happy Holidays

I hate Christmas lights (see below.) They give me fits. Do Christmas lights in close proximity to tinsel start fires? Do Christmas lights start electrical fires if you leave them plugged in even though they don't work?

Why am I suddenly fire-panicked?

Did I ever tell you about that one time I left the oven on for 14 hours? Oops.

Back to those lights, I know its not a novel complaint but they really do suck.

One good thing about the holidays: old movies. AMC keeps it sooo real... currently watching Holiday Inn with Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire... oh it's good.

Except for the fact that my television is busted so it keeps flashing red and then white and then fading to nothing... Come to think of it, you don't think that could, say... start a fire?

DOI

I've decided that my panicking is just an attempt on the part of my brain to refocus my attention on things that aren't that bad. Now I bet you are staring at the screen and thinking WTF is this chick talking about?

Well, I'll explain it, dummies.

See, instead of panicking about important shit, I somehow only panic about some dumbass, stupid stuff that no one actually cares about, including ME. Example: I had an exam this morning. In a subject I think I might actuallly want to practice some day. And last night, instead of panicking over the fact that I hadn't studied and had only a few hours left before actually taking the exam, I, in my inimitable style, was panicking about whether I should get out of my nice, warm bed to walk the three feet across my living room to pull out the plug on the Christmas lights.

Doi.

Then when I woke up at 5:30 AM, I opened my eyes and immediately started freaking because I was afraid that I wouldn't have enough time to eat breakfast, watch the news, shower, dress and pack up my stuff in order to make it to the 8:15 bus to make my 9 o'clock exam... yeah, the one I had YET to study for.

Forget the fact that it is approaching one week that my rent is late, and I haven't yet gotten my hands on the cash required to pay it.

What me worry?

So I'm thinking that my brain, without my knowledge, is like "This chick is gonna lose it if I let her panic about some important shit, you know like rotten milk or getting evicted, so we'll just distract her with stupid shit like whether Christmas lights have a negative (translation:burning) effect on fake plastic trees (purchased at Target with a credit card that STILL has an outstanding balance 5 years later...) oops, oops back to the lights, back to the lights..."

Thanks, brain, for keeping it so real.

WHERE ARE MY GROCERIES?!

Hey y’all, I’m back. I’m sitting around waiting for my groceries to be delivered and watching “Win A Date With Tad Hamilton.” (Clearly, Josh Duhamel is the hottest man on earth.) Anyway, I’m currently freaked because every single other time my groceries have been delivered, the Peapod man has arrived at the very beginning of the delivery period. Now, I’m looking at my clock, and it’s after 6, and the window started at 5:30. Mr. Peeeeeaaapoood Maan… where are you?

I started to think maybe I had mixed up my days. Now this would be highly problematic because a) my schedule is laid out like the effing Wall of China: it’s long and solid and it doesn’t appreciate breaks and b) I have no food. Now when I say I have no food, I mean like, no food. So I was kind of banking on the Peapod delivery man to bring me my food early. That way, I could unpack and make dinner and all would be right with the world. As it is, I’m in a state of disarray because NOW I’m afraid he’s going to arrive at 9:30, which would totally mess up my evening. That’s too late to make dinner, plus, the only the other thing I have to do tonight is give myself a pedi, which I can’t do until after he comes. So if he leaves me waiting until 9:30, I will have to eat and do the pedi afterwards, and that’s a problem because my bedtime is 10:30 and… well, even I’m getting sick of worrying about this.

So I’ll move on to worry about what I should do in the meantime. Obviously it should be productive, but I can’t face schoolwork. Laundry? No quarters… damn. I reached the end of the internet ages ago, so that’s out. Crap… now I’m going to panic about what to do instead of panicking.

This is when me falling down the steps to the Metro on Saturday night comes back to haunt me. See, when my mind tries to distract me, it usually does it by bringing back an awful memory I have been trying to repress. This time, it’s me plummeting to my knees on the stairs at Cleveland Park thanks to a loose heel on my formerly fabulous shoes while all the people waiting below on the platform laugh and point. I really love those shoes… guess I can’t wear them until I fix them… have to take them to Pentagon City for that… that’ll take a week… shit… what’ll I wear this Saturday night without them…

… and we’re back to panicking. Please. Don't act like this stuff doesn't occur to you too. Psssh.

So, up until now, my last panic attack had struck yesterday afternoon. This might not seem like much, but going for a minimum of 12 hours without having an internal meltdown is totally huge in my teetering-on-the-edge-of-insanity existence. Yesterday’s trauma occurred because a friend of mine had shipped his engagement ring (yeah ENGAGEMENT RING – you see where this is going…) to me. This meant I had to go to the post office, pick it up, and walk it down the street back to my apartment, then pack it up, and deliver it to him. For most people, this seems like a non-event. For me, it was like Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. You know what I’m talkin’ about. Every step could be a potentially deadly hazard. What if the post office lost it? What if someone realized it was jewelry and stole it out of the mail? What if I pick it up but it falls to the ground when I leave and I don’t notice it? What if I get mugged? (Now this one is really absurd. I live in a pretty upscale neighborhood. I’ve never been mugged in my life. The only thing between my apartment and the post office is a fire station with a minimum of 5 fireman sitting outside watching me walk by 500 times a day. No WAY that this is gonna happen…) What if I put it in my bookbag and get on the Metro and then on the escalator the person behind me surreptitiously unzips my bag, reaches in, grabs the box, slips it out, and then rezips my bag, all without my knowledge? (Again, odds on this one: slim to none. No, I take that back. Just none.) What if I put it in my locker at school, and someone sees me and uses a bolt cutter to break the lock and steal it? (I’m not kidding. These thoughts actually cross my mind.)

You can see how this is terrifying. But I try not to let on to everyone. I act like it’s totally no big deal. Meanwhile I’ve mentally used and abused myself into believing it’s a lost cause and the ring will never reach its destination. All while the poor little voice of reason in my head (who isn’t even in the back - he’s crouching in fear in a corner) keeps saying, “This is crazy. You are making shit up and it’s pretty irritating. Please, pull it together before I have to take action! ANnoying!”

Naturally, nothing happened and the ring made it. And then I had about 12 hours of peace. Until just now, when I realized that I have out-of-town friends coming over and the ice in my ice trays was made with tap water instead of bottled water and I only have 2.5 hours to remedy this dire situation…

My Very First Post

Wow. I can't believe I'm actually posting in a blog. I never though that I'd really be up to it. I don't think I'm that creative. But a friend of mine convinced me to do it. He said I'd be good at telling stories... mostly about me freaking out over little things.

Like today in class, I suddenly had an allergy attack. Naturally I was out of tissues, but my eyes were running and my nose was running - it was a marathon of facial features.

And I had to ask myself, "Do I really want to get up in the middle of class to get more tissues and draw everyone's attention to me?" It's so difficult.

Not to mention the fact that I woke up late and missed my bus. I pretty much expected it to be the end of the world today.

But whatcha gonna do? I can't believe that my allergies are still acting up. I mean WHAT is going on here?

You know, this whole blog thing is aMAZing. I can tell everyone about everything and anytime. I hope I can do a good job at it. The last thing I want to do is put up something crappy.

Ugh - one more thing to worry about!