It seems that between the celebrities lying low and Britney keeping her pants on and my own traveling and chasing after my crazy year-old kid (wow…. one year old….. wow), I’ve been rendered speechless.
I really don’t find I have much to write about. It could be that I’m pretty tired these days and these few minutes of precious silence are almost too much to bear and so my brain starts emitting theta waves or something.
It could also be that I simply don’t have too much to say. Christmas is coming and going out to the shops is a little overwhelming. Herr Meow and I went to about four today –for food and other essentials–, and therefore the overwhelm was in full force. Honestly, I just don’t understand why we do this to ourselves as a society, because it seemed that everyone was shopping for the entire city during their lunch breaks.
Yesterday my friend Mme. E and I went out to do a little browsing in the gorgeous shops on 8th street SE (also known as Barracks Row). As we walked along, we both remembered a very cool store we’ve always wanted to visit together.
Outside of said store waited a woman who looked (and later confirmed) was on her lunch break. Apparently she’d trekked from “very far, just to come to this store and check items off [my] Christmas list!”
But alas, small businesses being what they are, the lovely store was not open. It promised to be open at 11 –although there was an undated sign apologizing for opening at 11:30 instead. The sign could have been current, or it could have not.
The woman was livid. She was so upset she didn’t even really want to chat with us, and we didn’t really want to stick around waiting for the door to open. We left.
Half an hour later, we walked back and passed by. Still closed. The woman was nowhere in sight.
Why do we feel that we cannot have fun unless we’ve spent days and possibly months stocking up and stashing all manner of junk? Why shop during your lunch hour instead of eating or enjoying all the lovely seasonal decorations or the crispness in the air?
Enjoy the holidays. For free.
Don’t feel like you have to make a special trek to a store that clearly doesn’t want your (or anyone else’s) business.
Don’t be bullied. Advertisers are very good at what they do, so you need to put on your big kid pants and realize you are in control of just how much crap you buy and for whom you buy it. And between you and me, if Santa is such a perv that he sees you when you’re sleeping, then you really don’t want to be associated with that guy anyway.