Monday, November 22, 2004

every year, on the day-after-thanksgiving i get up super early, forgo the showering, dress in barely presentable clothing and no makeup and hit the stores - i plan out my trip the night before, target first, best buy second, then old navy, ulta and maybe walgreens if they're having a sale on something really good.

and every year, on the day after thanksgiving, i'm standing in line in front of target at 6am wondering what-the-fuck i'm doing standing in line. in front of target. at 6am.

target.

the same place i buy tampons, toilet cleaner and shampoo.


it's not like the store magically changes into a wonderland on that friday.

it's not like santa and his reindeer will be there.

it's not like they hand out free coffee and slices of thin crust pizza.

it's not like they offer free backrubs or flatter me obsequiously.

it's not like the sales are even that good.

and then there's the people. people wearing christmas themed sweaters. people wearing christmas themed socks. people wearing christmas themed fanny packs. people taking the parking space i wanted. people letting friends who got there half an hour after everyone else cut in line. people chatting incessantly on cell phones in the middle of the store. people arguing over a fifteen cent difference at the cash register. people who don't even open their wallets until the cashier announced the total and looks at them expectantly (seriously - did you not know you were going to need to pay?)

and every year, on the day after thanksgiving i return home bearing maybe one present and vowing never to do it again.

this year will be different though. i swear. because i staged an intervention for myself and have planned a brunch with my girl group for that day. and it starts at 10. and i have to bake an apple coffee cake for it so there is no conceivable way for me to get even the tinitest bit of shopping done.

so there, target. in your face.