Tag Archives: #leahwouldblog

Last night, I had a really strange, very real feeling dream. There were a bunch of parts to it, like I was watching a movie, but the last bit felt like the longest storyline.

I had moved to a small town—it reminded me of Weston, MO—charming, full of history, haunting, lovely…but it wasn’t Weston. I think it was actually someplace in Alaska, perhaps. Maybe even Longyearbyen on Svalbard. (I watch too many of Sejsejlija’s videos on TikTok about that place!) It was the type of small town where everyone was familiar with all who lived there—their residences, frequent hangout spots, etc.

Moving on, though…I was at the small grocery store, waiting in line to check out with a few items, when I heard a man speaking English with some sort of accent (Russian?). He was beginning to raise his voice at an employee, because he was upset they were out of stock of eggplants. I believe I briefly met this man earlier in my dream, and he had come across as a tough guy who was generally unhappy.

I left the line and walked towards the small commotion, because it occurred to me that I had had an eggplant in my cart earlier, then had set it somewhere it didn’t belong, when I had decided I didn’t want the vegetable.

On the way over to the man and employee, I grabbed the misplaced eggplant. When I arrived to the growing argument, I interrupted and explained how there was indeed still an eggplant in stock, and that I was very sorry I had misplaced it earlier.

That is when I handed it to the man. He seemed more relieved than anything, and proceeded to tell me that he had recently lost his grandmother and wanted to cook the eggplant how she used to, in homage of her.

Then, in a strange turn, as dreams like to do, he asked if I would help him out and cook it for him, as he was not adept in the kitchen.

To sort of make up for the havoc my earlier actions inevitably contributed to, I agreed to cook the eggplant. We exchanged numbers, so he could take his other groceries home, and I could also head to my home to prepare his Grandmother’s recipe.

Next thing I know, I’m in my kitchen, talking to this man on the phone, following cooking instructions his grandmother had left him. The eggplant definitely did NOT cook like a real eggplant! When I was done, it looked more like fried “chicken of the woods” (a mushroom, Laetiporus sulphureus—-yes, I had to Google that mushroom’s name)

As it was finishing, the man walks through my front door without even knocking! I made a mental note to start keeping that door locked. He had known where I lived, because earlier in the dream, my odd residence was a huge discussion. And as I mentioned, this was the type of town where everyone knew who lived where.

I divvied up the cooked eggplant between us, and we had dinner while standing in my living room, discussing memories of the departed and other topics I can’t quite recall.

This is where the dream became really odd…

While eating, an ex boyfriend of mine (who I haven’t seen since I was 19) walked through the door and asked to join us. We finished eating, and then the man (no, I never remembered his name) left and the ex and I discussed all the repairs my apartment needed.

An aside—from what I can gather, I lived in a very small, partly renovated loft atop an old building on the Main Street. The main, HUGE window had some stretchy canvas instead of glass, and the floor wasn’t finished, so I could only walk on certain spots in my living room/bedroom—sort of like an unfinished attic.

That’s pretty much it—that’s my dream. My cat woke me, so she could be fed breakfast, before the dream’s plot could go any further.

Evil Lurks

I swear, there was murder in its eyes—all eight of its eyes lusted for my blood. I didn’t see him at first, but I could feel that evil gaze as soon as I walked into my bedroom.  I had just exited the shower and my only goal was to dry my hair in peace.  As I reached for the hair-dryer, I glanced something dark and sinister in my peripheral vision.  It was above me, on the wall—the most fuzzy, black arachnid I had ever seen!  He wasn’t gigantic, but he was formidable in size enough so that I jumped back in terror.  Staring directly at me, he began to move across the wall in my direction.  He was either murderous, completely pervy, or BOTH!

It was decision time! This spider had to go!  I grabbed a shoe…but then I stopped.  If I smacked at this thing and missed, it would merely fall to the floor, and would land directly in my open bins full of makeup, etc.  At that point, he could potentially escape into the mess of things, recuperate, and then carry out his revenge on me later as I slept!

What were my other options? He was too high on the wall for me to try to catch him and release him to the wild.  I could have gone to the next room to grab some sort of bug spray with which I could attack him, but I was afraid that if I turned my back at all, he would escape and hide from me, while of course plotting my demise.  My contemplations increased, and I began to panic.

This is the instant, that crucial turning point, where the boyfren walked into my house. That moment looked like this:

He walked up to my bedroom door (unbeknownst to me) and peered in, puzzled, to find that I was standing there stark naked, holding one shoe like a baseball about to be pitched, but frozen in place, staring up at the wall, and yelling at my cats, “Why don’t you two do your jobs?? Why can’t you track down and kill the spiders?? YOU HAVE ONE RESPONSIBILITY IN THIS HOUSE BESIDES LICKING YOUR ASSHOLES, AND THAT IS TO KILL THE CREEPY/CRAWLY THINGS!!!”

With poise and ease, Justin grabbed a Kleenex, and disposed of the murderous perv-spider. JUST LIKE THAT!  As if it was a simple gesture!

My hero!

Now…I simply wait for the spider’s family to avenge his death. They always do.  (Isn’t this like the tenth blog I’ve written about spiders????)

Morning Schmorning!!!

Typical Morning…


“No…..that clock has to be wrong. I think I’ve only been asleep an hour, and it’s still dark outside. It’s not 7:00am”

**Checks phone. Realizes cat has changed time on clock. Fixes time.**


“Neko…no…you already have food. You don’t NEED water from the faucet. You have fucking ice water in your bowl. NO, CAT!”


“Cat…stop walking on the alarm clock and forcing it to make sounds.  Stop it. FINE…more foods for you…now go away….”

**Drags ass out of bed to give cat more food. Fetches self glass of ice water, and is forced to share it with mewing cats.**


“Why are alarms so loud?”

**Presses Snooze.**


“But I’m having a dream!!”

**Presses snooze again.**


“Damn it, I want to finish this dream!”

**Presses snooze for third time.**


**Dreams of getting up and readying self for work.**

**Assumes sitting position to turn off alarm, which has been blaring for 10 minutes straight.**

“Shit! Why aren’t I dressed?? That dream wasn’t real?! I’m going to be late!”

**Darts out of bed, brushes teeth, jumps into shower.**


**Debates on shaving while in shower—decides NO time.**


**Awakes after falling asleep while standing in shower—exits shower.**


**Dries hair halfway, throws on clothes, runs out door.**


**Runs back into house for car-keys…and back out again.**


**Runs back to house to lock the door, and back to car again.**


**Cusses out every single driver in traffic while applying makeup using rear-view mirror.**

**Cusses out every red stoplight.**


**Can’t get parking garage gate to open—reverses, drives, reverses, drives—until in EXACT SPOT for gate sensor to read sticker on car and OPEN.**


**Curses slow elevator.**


**Arrives at desk late…drinks all the coffee.**

Protest is Afoot!

I intended to wear my new heels today. It’s not like they were anything special, just a regular pair of black heels, but I needed to start breaking them in. My morning began a little later than I anticipated, so needless to say, I was in a bit of a rush. One of the final tasks in my mornings is to put on my shoes before I dash out the door. I place the first of my new shoes on my foot and am pleased at how well it fits. Then I pick up a second shoe, intent on putting it on, when I realize it was not the match. It’s similar, hence the reason it was sitting next to this one, but it was NOT my new shoe’s mate!!

I began frantically searching, and to my dismay, I could NOT find the second heel!! I panicked. I looked under the bed, under the clothes I had strewn onto the floor, and then I began to throw other shoes across the room, continuing my hunt. I was already late! After a full minute of panic-mode, I found the shoe’s mate buried under several other heels, and throw it on my foot.

And thus began my new shoes’ revenge….

After strolling into work an hour late, due to the unforeseen misplacement of my car’s key-fob (That’s another story.), I take a seat at my desk.

All is well with my feet for most of the day, but then, the tell-tale signs of “new heels” began to show on the sides of my feet. The skin was being rubbed raw in the same places where it often rubs while wearing new shoes. I assumed I could make it through one day without this happening, but I really should know better than to assume shit at this point.

It was no matter! I had band-aids in my overhead compartment at my desk. The somewhat fun (yet in this case, unfortunate) fact about my band-aids here is that they have pictures of giant mustaches on them. So it was then that my feet each had their own mustaches.

What I discovered, when I arose to walk to the break room, however, was that the rubbing of the shoe onto the glossy finish of the band-aid created an extremely loud creaking noise. EVERY STEP, my feet were declaring,

“Creak..creak…creak…squeak…I’m fuckin loud…everyone watch me walk…Yes, I almost fell…fuck you, too…squeak…creak…creak….creak….quit looking at me…yes I hear the noise….pretend you don’t hear it…quit being rude!! ….creak….creak…”

I should have known from the start that these shoes did not WANT to be worn today.

Morning Gift

This morning, I awoke to find a little “present” from my cats. I imagine that when this happened, it went down something like this:

Neko (In Brooklyn accent): Yo…hey, Buddy….look! Look at her sleepin’! We didn’t even get any TREATS today. What’s you say we show her a thing or two about that, eh? She won’t wake up. Got any ideas?

Buddy (In Stoner Voice): Yah, Man….I ain’t had any catnip for like..uh…for like weeks, Man. We should do something to get her attention.

Neko: Yeah, Yeah….but what we gonna do. Knockin shit off her nightstand isn’t doing it. Chewing on her bedside lamp’s not doin’ it either. Today, you know what she did? She hid those jars of change in a drawer so I couldn’t knock it over…can you believe that?! I thought that shit was sitting there for MY playtime pleasure.

Buddy: Uh…yah…she won’t let me drink out of her glasses any more unless she’s watching me, Brah…no fun, Man….no fun. I do have an idea, Man.

Neko: Give it to me.

Buddy: When I get all like….angry or some shit at her, I like to barf on the floor, ya know?

Neko: Yah, I seen that…it’s kinda wrong….I don’t like the smell…but hey…whateva ya gotta do, right?

Buddy: Right..and uh…well she just started cleaning it up and getting used to it, so I stopped for awhile, cuz…ya know….it wasn’t doin’ anything for me but makin’ me feel bad….

Neko: Uh huh…?

Buddy: You know those shoes we like to chew on when she isn’t watchin’ us, Dude?

Neko: Yah…What about ‘em?

Buddy: Let’s go yack in ‘em, Man! When she finds those, she’ll KNOW we’re pissed off and be like, bound to do anything we command after that, right?

Neko: I can see your point….Go ahead. I’ll supervise.

And so, I didn’t get to wear today’s heels, as planned. Thanks, Guys……thanks.

Random Brain Stuff

Sometimes, my brain wanders to places throughout the day. It isn’t normal…..

I could definitely take a nap right now. But just because I can, doesn’t mean I will. Unfortunately, a hard desk doesn’t really make the best pillow. Not only that, but if I end up drooling in my sleep, it’d form a pool on my desk, and I would probably not notice it at first. Then, I’d end up sliding a paper across my desk, no doubt something of extreme importance, and it would soak up all of the spit. The document would be ruined, and I would have to explain why I needed a duplicate.
“Sorry, Boss…I drooled all over this one by accident. Could you please give me another one so I can try again?”

I have unopened, plastic utensils at my desk. There is a fork and a knife. I’m trying to remember where they came from. Most of the time, these things are packaged together. Spoon, Fork, and Knife are a family with little salt and pepper packet babies, all nestled in their plastic wrapping, alongside the soft side of a napkin.
But these utensils…the ones on my desk…they are different. They were each packaged separately. Did the plastic-ware family get a divorce? The salt and pepper packets either ran away or grew up and moved out of the home….or got eaten. Now THAT would suck….but then again, they would have died while serving their whole life’s purpose. It is just too bad they were so young….so innocent……so salty. And where the hell is the spoon?? Probably off, forking around all over town! Slutty spoon…

I Talk to Myself Every Day

A conversation I had today with myself inside my head:

There’s ice cream in the fridge.

No…No you DON’T want it. You just ate Funyons!!

There may be mint chip in there. It would freshen my Funyon breath. I have no more gum. I should eat the ice cream to spare others in the office from smelling my mouth.

No one is going to smell your mouth. You’re sitting in front of the computer all day. Besides…you have a toothbrush and toothpaste in your overhead bin.

Oh yah….I forgot about that…but I don’t like that toothpaste.

I bet it smells better than Funyon Breath.

So does mint chip ice cream.

You just got an email. You should probably just check into that and forget about what’s in the freezer.

That’s impossible.

It’s NOT impossible! Go…do…things! Do important things and FORGET THE ICE CREAM!

I wonder if there is still chocolate syrup and toppings in the fridge. There used to be heath topping.

That would taste awful on mint chip ice cream.

How do YOU know!!?

I just KNOW….and so do you.

There’s cake batter flavor ice cream, too. I bet it would taste good on that.

It wouldn’t freshen your Funyon breath.

That’s why I need a scoop of cake batter ice cream AND a scoop of mint chip. Don’t worry! I’d eat the cake batter first and finish with the minty freshness!

STOP talking about ice cream!! You don’t want any! You only have 500 calories allocated for the REST of your day because YOU decided to eat Funyons! PLUS, you had no-bake cookies for breakfast!

Hey!!! That was oatmeal!!…….mostly……!!

Just because you logged it as oatmeal doesn’t mean it actually IS! You’ve met your sugar quota for the day. NO ICE CREAM.

But, I want it.

I don’t care.

Want…….you know, I might die without it.


Yup….I really haven’t had much calcium today….and do you know what ice cream is JAM PACKED with…??

Oh, Brother….

Yup! Calcium! My bones feel weak….as in…they may crumble!! I think it has begun!!

Well, if your bones are crumbling from calcium deficiency, then there’s no way you’ll be able to walk to the kitchen for ice cream, much less scoop out the “frozen as hard as a rock” dessert.

I must act fast!!! Stop trying to stop me!!!!


Yes, I DO!!!!!






…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….Someone took the ice cream.

The Day is Only Half Over…

Things you MIGHT have learned today:
– A cat is not an effective alarm clock. Even if it does want and beg for food at 5:00am, it will likely snuggle you back to sleep…at least for awhile…. before waking you up to the sounds of ripping book-pages next to your head. Even the gagging sound of a cat barfing will not necessarily wake you up, though you’ll be busting out some interesting dance moves after arising from bed and stepping in kitty vomit.

– As sanitizing as it may seem to use hot water to clean various objects, the same is not true for merely any scalding liquid. It would NOT behoove you to accidentally use coffee to clean your keyboard. It turns out that it merely makes things a bit stickier than before. A can of air will effectively spray and splash the liquid from the keys to all over your computer screen and desk, so using it to clean up the aforementioned spilled coffee is also a bad idea.

– The moment you realize the seam is coming undone NEXT to your zipper in your pants is the moment you realize that not ONLY do you need to lose a few…or twenty…pounds, but it’s ALSO the moment you know you should probably not stand or walk around too much at work while wearing those un-fitting pants. Also, those slacks are bastards. They should be destroyed, along with your bathroom scale. (Obviously, your ass and thighs are doing a good job of obliterating them, though, so at least you got that going for you.)

– Relying on ONLY caffeinated beverages for breakfast is potentially a bad idea. Relying on Cheez Its for lunch…is an even worse idea.

– Do not try to un-jam your co-worker’s electric stapler with objects from your desk. You’ll likely end up with staple-remover induced cuts on your hand and a failed attempt at being mechanically inclined. Besides that, look at all the paper clips you just ruined!!

Klutz Factor Today: Level 7

Blunders happen.

So does gravity.

Especially when it comes to me.

And, of course, oatmeal has to be involved as well.

It wouldn’t be a typical Monday without me slopping Quaker’s Oatmeal onto my shirt…..and pants…WHILE AT WORK.

Of course, grabbing the nearest thing next to me to clean it up resulted in Kleenex dissolving onto my just-washed, black slacks.

So now there is a light-colored stain right next to the crotch of my pants….and on the boob of my shirt.

Welcome to my life.


1. Ever have one of those days where it doesn’t matter how much coffee you drink, how much cold air blasts in your face, how many showers you take or how many jumping jacks you do, you just can’t seem to wake up? This is today.

2. I fail at eye-drops. Since I don’t feel like walking all the way to the bathroom to use the mirror, I re-wet my eyes/contacts at my desk. Unfortunately, my aim in general (with anything) is not the most stellar in the world. The first two drops generally end up rolling down my cheek, missing my eyes completely. The third drop might hit my lashes, giving me a very nice streak of mascara down my face. Finally, drops four and five are a bull’s-eye.

Then I repeat on the other side. SAME EXACT THING HAPPENS.

And there you have it; now I sit at my desk looking as if I just lost my dog and am an emotional mess, when truth be told….I just need better hand to eye coordination.

3. Stomach aches are stupid.

Liquid In Transit

It was a place I had never been before, and now that I had arrived, there was no turning back. The small door opened inward, and the first thing I noticed as I entered was the size. I imagined that if there was a closet underneath a small shelf inside of a loft apartment, that’s the amount of space that was permitted to me to do my business. I would not have messed with it, honestly, but since there were still 45 minutes until we landed at the airport in Ft. Lauderdale, and I had rapidly consumed three alcohol-beverages, no more waiting could happen.

THIS……this is what had to happen.

I was about to use the restroom in an airplane. My pee was to be scattered in the wind, high above the earth, raining down upon the unsuspecting joggers and dog-walkers!! It’s almost poetic.

(I know this isn’t really what happens, but this is how I imagine it happens, so let me have my dreams!)

As I turned around to shut and lock the door, I impassively noticed the “No Smoking” sign directly above the ash tray. A quick thought of “Oh, this plane must be old” crossed my mind, and shortly after “I wonder if older planes crash more easily than newer ones…” This thought came to me completely out of nowhere, and I banished it away as I dropped the trousers and sat to pee.

I’m not afraid of flying—I’ve never had a reason to be. The only thing I don’t like about traveling in an airplane is the lack of foot-room and the fact that the seats are difficult to fall asleep in. Turbulence had never been an issue, since I had never really experienced it…..

Until that very moment….

As soon as I sat down on the pot, the seatbelt light turned on and the pilot’s voice rang out saying that we needed to be seated and brace ourselves for a fuckin’ whirlwind of flight. (I may be paraphrasing a little bit on that.)

“What the hell do I hold onto!??”

Suddenly, I was taking a piss on a roller coaster!! I held onto the wall and searched for the toilet paper so I could escape this crazy, shaky box-room! When I glanced to my left, all I saw were Kleenex! They had to do! I pulled a couple out, wondering how they could NOT provide TP……

But then I saw it….it was BELOW me and to the left…..two glorious rolls of it!!


As I reached, more turbulence made me lurch forward. My hand hit the toilet paper as my head hit the door, and both of the rolls both came flying off from their holder!


As my entire body was still being flung up and down then side to side, I chased after the rolls along the floor, while still keeping my butt planted on the seat, because I was in no mood to have leftover pee-dribbles creep down my leg. I finally was able to procure one roll and fasten it back to its home. The other became a rogue wanderer of the bathroom floor.

After difficulty (an understatement), I finished THAT business.

Pulling up my pants was a challenge, too….since we were still being jostled about, I kept being slammed into the door while ATTEMPTING to pull up my jeans.

Let’s just say, I ended up half-way falling a couple times before I was able to wash my hands at the world’s tiniest sink! I also fell a couple times while washing my hands.

Airplane Crew, I’m sorry, I ended up flinging water spots all over the mirror…and the walls…and the door…and my FACE.

As soon as I finished and exited the restroom, the plane leveled out and the ride was completely smooth.


I stood there, puzzled, for just a couple seconds and wondered if that whole thing was the pilot’s version of a joke.

I’m assuming, “YES”.


You know what the first thing a person generally needs to do is when he or she awakes after a full night’s sleep? Take a piss. At least, I think that would be the general consensus.

Saturday was no different in this regard. I had slept in until almost noon, when my cats would no longer leave me alone, because they expect food ALL DAY and FOREVER. So I fed them and then meandered to the bathroom to take care of that previously mentioned necessity.

For some reason, the toilet appeared as though it hadn’t been flushed the night before.

I found this odd, but didn’t give it too much thought. I pushed down on the handle…

The water didn’t go down.

No…instead….it began to rise!

“Wait….what…is…happening….? How…does…this….huh??”

I didn’t immediately panic, because I couldn’t quite register what was occurring. Just a few seconds later, however, I noticed that the rising did not cease.

“Shit!! I don’t have a plunger!! WHY DID I NEVER BUY A PLUNGER!???”

This is where my panic set in……AND…

the overflow began.

“Aaahhh!!! Crap!!! Piss!! F***!!!”

Trying to at least avoid wet carpet, I grabbed the rug from the floor and flung it into the next room, while shooing the cats away, because of COURSE they want to come try to walk through the pee-water!

(Oh HI! I’m a happy, little cat!! Watch me prance in the water!! SEE ME FUCKIN’ PRANCING, MOM!??)

“Get back, A-Hole!!!! You’re cute, but NO ONE IS CUTE WITH PEE ON THEIR PAWS!”

I leaped across the puddle to the linen closet (simultaneously pushing the cats away), grabbed a roll of paper towels and began to unroll it.

ALL OF IT…I UNRAVELED EVERY LITTLE BIT…right onto the offending water!

The toilet stopped running, but it was still full to the brim with water, and of course I was left with a dirty pond in my bathroom.

The worst part of it was I still had to pee—badly!! And this little situation didn’t help in that department whatsoever. I mean…running water??!! Come on!!!!

So there it was:

My bathroom–a massive lake of pee-water topped with a zillion paper towels, two cats dancing through it in glee, and me…forced to use the bathtub to take a piss, shaking my head at the fact that I had pee on my feet…just like the cats.

Oh yah…Two hours later, I bought a plunger.

Rage Moment

The debate I was having in my head last night involved potentially smashing my bathroom scale into oblivion with a hammer….
Really, it was being a total cunt by telling me my weight. If it really wanted to live a full life, shouldn’t it work on doing it’s job of MAKING ME FEEL BETTER???
Who wants to know the TRUTH, right???

I probably would have smashed it in it’s smug face, but then I’d have to pony over more dough to buy another one….. to potentially smash as well. Thus, a vicious cycle would begin, and honestly, I don’t have the money to buy a new scale every two days.

So it’s still alive….living on its high horse and grinning at me malevolently every time I step onto it.

I started sticking her next to the toilet, so that I can at least do a little degrading of my own.
Take that, SCALE!! First I’ll stomp on you and then throw you and your truth-telling ass next to the SHIT BOWL!

So my Tuesday’s going GREAT….How is yours?

Poppin’ Pills

As a young person, I learned how to NOT open a bag of chips. When one pulls on each opposite side of the package until it opens, if there is too much force, the sack is going to unexpectedly pop open, Jack-In-The-Box style, and chips are going to be flung into the air, onto the person’s head (probably) and all over the ground!
Yesterday and Today: My allergies had begun to bother me. I’m not sure if it’s the grass or if it’s pollen in the air, but one thing’s for sure—my nose has been one itchy bitch!
Generally, I go for as long as I can before taking any sort of medicine. I figure that my body can surmise how to get through it, and eventually be just fine, without the crutch of medication.

This morning, however, I could no longer stand the itchy nose, sneezing, watery eyes, and general annoyance that my face was feeling. I knew that in the cabinet at my desk, I would find the answer in the form of allergy pills.

As I opened the door to the overhead bin, I momentarily thought I heard angels singing.
“Did someone put some sweet cherub in here? Yes! Yes, they did! In the form of Cetirizine Hydrochloride and Pseudoephedrine!! COME TO ME, MY ANGEL!!!”

A grin spread across my face as I reached for the box that held my salvation….I knew that relief would follow soon.

The box felt very light, and when I peered into it, I realized there was only one tablet left. This was okay, because the box said this one pill would provide up to 12 hours of relief. HALF A DAY OF HAPPINESS!!!!

I could deal with that! ANY relief was better than none, at this point!

I pulled the little bubble-shaped plastic/foil packet out, found the “tear here” slit, and began my ATTEMPT to rip into it!

**Tries to rip plastic and foil packaging——no rip occurs.**

**Attempts to rip in opposite direction——to no avail.**

**Begins the “using canine teeth” method——package is still intact, albeit now full of teeth marks.**

At this point, frustration began to set in, and the panic caused me to just start pulling the two sides apart with ALL of my strength!!

AND THEN!!!!………..

(I didn’t count on this sort of thing happening with a NON-bag shaped container. I should have known. Just like potato chips.)

The teeny package burst open, and its contents went flying! I didn’t see where the pill landed, but I HEARD it “tap, tap, tap” across my desk to some unknown place.

I’M SO SORRY, MY ANGEL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(Five minutes later, after searching the entire premises that is my cubicle, in hopes that no one would walk by at the moment that my ass was sticking up in the air from under my desk, I had my allergy medicine. Still currently waiting for it to kick in….)

Target Cart

The shopping carts at Target remind me of giant versions of toy carts—the kind you would play with when you were three years old and load up with plastic versions of fruit, vegetables, and empty food boxes.

I think they’re ridiculous.

THEY…. think I am ridiculous.

Last Sunday, I went grocery shopping at Target. It was a normal trip…. followed by an abnormal ‘trip’.

In the parking lot afterwards, it was raining. As I walked my cart back to its designated spot in the lot, I somehow managed to lose my shoe. I swear to you, it just HOPPED RIGHT OFF my foot!! As I turned to retrieve the flip-flop, the cart began to tip.

So picture this: A girl in the middle of a busy parking lot, with a cart toppling over while wearing only one shoe…in the rain……EXCLAIMING,

“Why is this so hard???”

This is just typically me.