ch-ch-changes

Last night I was prowling around  Target for ice cube trays with the kiddo in tow. It took me more than half an hour to find them, all the while muttering to myself “in what world do I not know where everything is when I shop?!!! Dammit! I knew I should have taken the ice cube trays….that would have drove him crazy!” (and it would have). See, this was me, my former self, the  power shopper-my- day-is-not-complete-until-I-have-shopped-til-I-dropped girl. But I don’t “browse” anywhere that doesn’t feature second hand merchandise, hardware,  or cute animals anymore. I’m very much a go in, get what I need and then back out shopper. Saves a lot of time, money, and probably temptation. I kept double, triple, quadruple checking and then repeating the kitchen section. I began to wonder if it was an ADD moment, like my mind was glazing over all of the selections in the department,  as sometimes happens when I’m overwhelmed by volume. But no, I was medicated and feeling “on” at the time. After a quick consultation with one of the ubiquitous clerks in red, I discovered the problem was due to my own shopping habits and a questionable marketing choice. They were in the disposable plastics section, where all the Rubbermaid and Glad containers for lunch sandwiches were. A place I would never go.

I must say that I am very fond of the Archer Farms blueberry nut blend Target sells though. Yummy. My refrigerator has half a shelf dedicated to nuts and seeds since I went vegetarian a couple of weeks ago. I feel physically a lot better, but it’s no surprise since I’ve done this before. My only temptation came this morning when the kiddo requested bacon for breakfast. She herself eats only the fat on the bacon (more fat, Mama!). It passed.

I’m growing my hair long. I’m starting the volunteer bird rehabilitation project I’d wanted to do for some time, soon. These days I’ve been having a lot of fun poking old boundaries imposed upon me by my previous relationship (the birds played into that). After almost eight years of anticpating and catering to another’s whims, needs, and moods full time, to the point of hyper vigilance, I’m finally figuring out what I want and need. Sounds basic, right? But it’s taken me awhile.

I have my last session with the rock star therapist next week, and I’m sad. I’ve “lost” therapists before and was always stunned by what must be a stock question from the professionals in these situations: “how do you feel about this separation from *insert name of former therapist*?” WTF??? It’s not as though I breast fed or shared my bed with these people, was my thought. But I get it now, I do. I really like the rockstar. She’s about my age, and a dynamo, a force of nature. And, ok, it’s difficult not to like someone who tells you at least five times a session, how very smart you are (she’s whip smart herself. I love smart people). It’s not relevant to my treatment, of course, but I like that she wears just a bit of glitter on her eyes at her job, in the daytime. Somewhat of a professional faux-pas, but it tells me she is happy with who she is. I’ll probably see her around at the Y, though. I need her example.

Happy Thursday. It’s sunny, warm, and nearly snow free. We’re going to go out and play. Ciao!

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1 Response to “ch-ch-changes”


  1. 1 Doktor Holocaust March 7, 2008 at 9:42 am

    I had the exact same problem at Target when I got my own place and discovered that I, too, should’ve stolen the ice cube trays.

    as fond as i am of retail therapy, i have an innate dislike of shopping that perhaps comes from stores always being too hot and too crowded for my liking, so after a trip out to treat myself to some new books or cereal bowls or whatever it is that will make me smile, I need some other sort of self-medication to help me recover from my retail therapy.


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