Stay tuned for the actual point of this post, but here’s the “is-she-crazy-or-not” update.
That really great feeling from a few days ago? It’s gone. But I’m not quite buried in the fog, again. I’m just…neutral. Thanksgiving was nice. No pressure. I cooked. We ate. Watched football. It was lovely. I was feeling a little anxiety early on, but by the end of the evening it had passed. Now I’m neither up or down. Just… I’m here. And I’m content with that today.
Christmas madness has begun. I don’t do the whole “Black Friday” thing. I’m pretty sure that buffets and Black Friday bring out the worst in humanity. There’s no social order; it’s total anarchy. Plus, don’t even get me started on all the Christmas music you’re forced to endure while shopping with all the other wackos.
I did go out, but it wasn’t until 1pm. That’s a normal hour of the day to shop. In my opinion, at least. Which leads me to the topic of this post:
So there we were at The Great Indoors, which is closing in our neck of the woods. Maybe they’re all closing? It would make sense – I saw a robe hook for the bathroom door that cost $44. For $44, I will drape it over the toilet like everyone else. And that was where the ridculousness started. That place was bankruptcy waiting to happen.
At any rate, the hubs and I are walking around the store and half-snickering, half-actually-looking at the “closeout prices” of random items. I put “closeout prices” in quotes because I’m certain the prices we saw were their sales prices. Who pays $20 for a towel? A regular, white bath towel? I rubbed it all over and a genie did *not* pop out and grant me three wishes. Not even one wish. A genie didn’t even pop out and scowl at me. Bottom line: considering there was no genie involved, the towel was clearly over priced.
We continue on this adventure, making mostly quiet snide comments about robe hooks and the $7000 round hot tub that was “clearanced” from $8000.
Then, we stumble upon this gem. This beautiful wardrobe closet. I’m marveling at it, and say to the hubs, “You think it’s the path to Narnia? Or maybe the Mirror of Erised from Harry Potter?” At this point, the sales person came over to inform me that this sweet little piece of furniture is 125 years old, and was originally priced at $22,000. The good people at The Great Indoors are willing to part with it for only $7500. I say, with the straightest face, “Do you think it is the path to Narnia?” She looked at me, at first, like she *thought* she heard what I said, but couldn’t believe someone would ask such a thing. So she says, “Excuse me?”
Me: Do you think this might be the path to Narnia?
Her: (blank look) Um….
Me: OR… it could be that mirror from Harry Potter. The one where he sees his dead parents in the mirror. I don’t have dead parents. So all I see is me.
Her: Um…. (still looking at me like I have a cat on my face)
Me: I’m going with Narnia.
Her: (gathering her whereabouts at this point) *clearing her throat* It is from France. (it’s cute… she’s trying to stay collected and professional)
Me: Hmmmm… Narnians could be French? I suppose anything is possible.
At this point she literally walks away *just* before I asked her to open it so I could investigate the passage. Too bad. It could’ve been a whole new adventure!
And this is why I shouldn’t be allowed out in public.