When I was having such trouble sleeping, I decided one night at about 2:30 a.m. that my bedroom needed redecorating. It needed to become more of a boudoir, a haven.
I also decided that I could no longer sleep underneath an artist’s depiction of my dead dog. The poodle and dachshund artwork would have to move to the office, despite the entertaining fact that from a certain angle, the black poodle looks like Darth Vader.
I’m still working on the artwork, but am close to ordering a giant decal from etsy. Anyone have experience with giant stickers as wall ornamentation?
But today, I spent the afternoon schlepping about town, looking for new curtains. I looked at all the “gee, I hope this is on sale” stores. And I finally had my prayers answered by Barbara at the JCPenney home store, who gave me the pricing that starts tomorrow on the drapes that I bought today, because she didn’t want me to have to drive all the way back to the store.
I was deep in suburbia when I hit this home decor jackpot. And so I moseyed across the street to the luxurious Super Target. As I was pulling into the parking lot, I remembered that this was the Super Target just a few blocks from where The Ladybug lived with her mother. This was the Super Target where The Ladybug reported shopping several times a week.
I needed a baby shower gift. I had to go to Target. So I went about my shopping, unable to fully experience and enjoy The Target Stroll. No, I was instead worried about what would happen if I ran into The Ladybug.
Yes. I was afraid of a 5-year-old girl.
Would she remember me? Would I say hi and then have to say, “you know, I was friends with your daddy?” If she was with her mother, would the earth just swallow me whole? Would I have to explain that the Geriatric Poodle went to heaven to play with her old dog? Would her mother be even taller and blonder than I remember and look disdainfully at the selection of items in my cart?
Or what if she was with her dad? I was totally in The Ex-Boyfriend Formerly Known as Mr. Wonderful’s ‘hood, although not his preferred Target.
And then? And then I had a giant “fuck it” moment. I bought a delightful floral place mat to put under Foxie Doxie’s water dish. I scored some baby shower swag. And then I went home.
My Saturday night was spent ironing curtains while watching Miss America. Alone. And really? It was great.