They Should Never Let Me Outside

So, I had to take Dad to the hospital Monday night. He’s fine. While we were there was this little girl who looked like Hermione Granger. I kept staring at her side eye. Even I am socially adept enough to know it is creepy to walk up to an eleven year-old in an ER and say “Holy Shiv! You look just like Hermione Granger!” I’m sure she gets it all the time, and it is sort of a bad time.

Today, I had to run all of the errands after yesterday of doing all the cleaning. I was hurting. I was in sweat pants and a t-shirt. My hair was gross. I felt uck. I almost just lost it in the Wal-Marts, but I didn’t. I missed being pretty. I cried when I got home because I was tired and hungry and in a rush for my eye appointment. The entire drive to Norman, I was stressing until it dawned on me: waiting on my glasses to be done gave me an excuse to wander around Barnes and Noble.

Before I left home, I had changed from sweat pants and a t-shirt into a skirt and a different  t-shirt. My hair still looked terrible and I found myself sighing about looking like crap on my one trip into a store that isn’t Wal-Mart or CVS. I realized I had a make up stash in my purse. I decided I couldn’t be too fail at being a woman if I had an eye make-up/lipstick stash in my purse for emergencies.

One final bit of business. I saw this shit at Barnes and Nobles:

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!?!?

The creepy fucking elf now wants birthdays, too. This is your doing. Soon, you will be under yearlong elf surveillance, and y’all won’t have anyone to blame but yourselves. I warned you. You have been warned.