I have the entire weekend off. I, the person who works All The Time, have two whole days off-In A Row-and have absolutely nothing planned except to visit with my mom at some point. This is what a real weekend is? Normal people have these all the time? This is glorious! So, just how exactly do you think I spent the first 4 hours of my whole weekend off?
Standing in line.
Yes, I stood in line at Ikea, for over 4 Hours. To buy bookshelves. Because they were on sale and I am cheap. Now, I got there early, I thought, and there was already a line around the building. To buy bookshelves and chairs. To be precise, Expedit bookshelves for $49, and a Poang chair for $39. They really were a good deal, I mean that's at least $40 off each item. But I'm justifying....
And after about 20 minutes in the full morning sun, my pale, pale arms glowing like two welcoming beacons, signaling new arrivals, I thought "Eff this, what the H-E-double hockey sticks am I doing wasting this day?"
But I had moved about ten feet. There were now People Behind Me. I was no longer the Last In Line. And even though I didn't realized it then, I was committed. I was getting that damn bookshelf and that damn chair. There were a few tense moments, like when an employee shouted from the ticket booth, "Only 175 chairs left, and 200 bookshelves!" and there were still a lot of people ahead of me. There were awkward moments, like standing in the full sun at 11:45 am and a single drop of sweat rolled down my cleavage. Or when I was jammed in line between two very chatty old broads, one who decorated for weddings and thought I'd care to know how she would use every single vase in an arraignment, and one who had a greenhouse and insisted I'd be very happy with an orchid, I really should get the orchid, really they're very lovely on an Eastern-facing window sill.
So, 4 hours later, I'm wheeling my little cart stacked with my loot, thinking, "really? was this really worth it?" I get that freakin' heavy bookshelf back to my house, out of my car, and set up in my room. It may not be much, but I think that damn orchid does look lovely. And the bookshelves are already packed.
Standing in line.
Yes, I stood in line at Ikea, for over 4 Hours. To buy bookshelves. Because they were on sale and I am cheap. Now, I got there early, I thought, and there was already a line around the building. To buy bookshelves and chairs. To be precise, Expedit bookshelves for $49, and a Poang chair for $39. They really were a good deal, I mean that's at least $40 off each item. But I'm justifying....
And after about 20 minutes in the full morning sun, my pale, pale arms glowing like two welcoming beacons, signaling new arrivals, I thought "Eff this, what the H-E-double hockey sticks am I doing wasting this day?"
But I had moved about ten feet. There were now People Behind Me. I was no longer the Last In Line. And even though I didn't realized it then, I was committed. I was getting that damn bookshelf and that damn chair. There were a few tense moments, like when an employee shouted from the ticket booth, "Only 175 chairs left, and 200 bookshelves!" and there were still a lot of people ahead of me. There were awkward moments, like standing in the full sun at 11:45 am and a single drop of sweat rolled down my cleavage. Or when I was jammed in line between two very chatty old broads, one who decorated for weddings and thought I'd care to know how she would use every single vase in an arraignment, and one who had a greenhouse and insisted I'd be very happy with an orchid, I really should get the orchid, really they're very lovely on an Eastern-facing window sill.
So, 4 hours later, I'm wheeling my little cart stacked with my loot, thinking, "really? was this really worth it?" I get that freakin' heavy bookshelf back to my house, out of my car, and set up in my room. It may not be much, but I think that damn orchid does look lovely. And the bookshelves are already packed.
I hope that Santa was good to you all. I got the humidifier I asked for. Not so exciting, you may think. But I'll tell ya what else isn't so exciting--weekly nosebleeds in my extremely dry house.
I've been listening to the all Christmas music station, so in a weird way I feel like I'm going home for Christmas. Oh great, I have a sneaking suspicion that I know what my nightmare is going to be tonight--going home for Christmas and forgetting to buy presents.
Yeah, did I mention I've been having nightmares? The kind that only I find scary. When I tell somebody about them, I just get this blank, "you call that a nightmare?" kind of look.
Speaking of traditions, I'm hoping she will bring a 
