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Yesterday, I think I slept for something like 20 hours. I was unconscious. Out. Sick. Feverish. What odd dreams I had, too. You were there, and you, and you, too! Oh, Auntie Em, I wanna go back to Oz! Today, all of my poor old joints are sore. I made a feeble attempt to unpack some stuff, aided by my Wonder Borkia's big schnozz, then went to run errands. First up, the Children's Hospital Thrift Store, to drop off lotsa lotsa stuff we shouldn't have moved. I like to help out the CH, because they fixed my heart. Love CHKD! Then, I explored Consignment City. I'm looking for a desk--just for me, a place to do bills, birthday cards, and the like. I thought I'd find it there, maybe. Found lots of beautiful, pricey antique-type furniture in front. Very pretty, but my hoose is waaay too small for those mammoth armoires. Next layer in was ooky, oooky stuff, mostly '80s pod furniture--you know, no corners or angles, round mirrors, bad laminate. Yuck. After that, the junque. Oh, my. Like the detritus of a thousand garage sales vomited forth in grotesquely orderly chaos. A whole shelf of plastic dolls. A row of crock pots. A battalion of steam irons. Piles of plastic flowers. Kitsch galore. Dear, me. It was enough to seriously curtail my normally healthy consumer impulses. Kind of the ugly underbelly of our gotta-getit culture. Kept me firmly in line at Tar-zhay, oh yeah. Funniest thing I bought today was an eyelash curler for the Samurai. He has absurdly long eyelashes for a boy, and they bump his sunglasses. The curler worked, but gave him a bit of a girly air, most odd in a burly, bearded, balding manly man. Don't think he'll be using that much. I don't touch eyelash curlers, myself. Scary-looking things. Must go devise lesson plans for the week. Thinking about digging up American Cancer Society info and making a donation in memory of Talia. (and Mom, and Uncle Frank, Uncle Ned, and many, many others.) |
 
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Consumer Constipation