Retail Shopping... The Only Therapy I Don't Need

I hate shopping!

Hate it! Hate it! Hate it! Hate it!

I have no patience for shopping. I want to be in. I want to be out. I want to be home. I find the whole experience tedious. From schlepping my way in, to schlepping about the isles in search of that ever elusive find of a deal.

Two and a half hours of shopping tonight for the minor child's outfit for her Christmas concert netted the following results...

One pair of black dress shoes.

Items still missing are black skirt and the requisite white dressy blouse.

And who the hell requires a white dressy blouse for Christmas anyway? And have you ever tried to find a white dressy blouse in mid-December? Because let me tell you, there is no such thing as a white dressy blouse! There is however plenty of winter white which is a fancy way of saying ivory! And ivory isn't an acceptable color for kids to wear to their *(*&#^$W*! Christmas concert!

Fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck!

And no, I'm not even going to pretend I didn't mean to say any of that just now. My head hurts, my feet hurt, and I'm even pretty sure my ass hurts (mostly because it didn't want to feel left out) and all I can think about is one thing.

I've got to do this all over again tomorrow.

That's it... Cold compress and Nyquil, I'm your girl!