It was Sunday morning and I was going to Ikea, because I had promised Child 1 I would get him a desk before the weekend was over.
I get dressed and get ready, except I decided to skip the shower. I figured it would be quick, in 'n out and all done, don't need to shower for that, right? Except, it had been 3 days since I had last showered and... I was pretty ripe. In hindsight? This was a bad choice.
Because, you see, it was not a quick in 'n out and all done.
School just started at Cal (UC Berkeley) last week, it was labor day weekend, and apparently every student and their mother (literally) had decided that Sunday morning was the best time to go and buy those lamps and computer desks for their new dorms and apartments.
Oh good god it was crowded. And hot. And I was fucking ripe. Did I mention I hadn't showered in 3 days? I had visible stink lines coming from the top of my head. And after a few days of not showering, my hair goes out in all different directions; far, far away from my head. I was not a pretty sight.
And what's that rule? There's a rule, I think, that says that when you go out in public without showering, and it's crowded and noisy and hot and you're sweaty and sticky and fucking miserable you will run into one person you know for each day that you haven't showered? I think that's the rule, right? I hadn't showered in 3 days so, naturally, I ran into 3 people that I knew.
It was awful. The more I walked through the crowds and listened to the in depth discussions about the width of the space between the bed and the window and whether or not this particular Lapkrik would fit in that space and hey, what do you think of the pink one? Should I get the pink one? the more I wanted to just flee that horrible, horrible place. But I had promised Child 1 a desk and I wasn't going to come home without one. Fuck the meatballs and daim bars and lightbulbs, just get me a goddamn desk and get me the hell out of here.... I wove through the strollers and the peppy sorority girls and their mothers and so many toddlers for some reason, I found my desk and I got the fuck out as fast as I could.
The next day, hubs actually took both kids and went back. He came home with not only daim bars, meatballs and lightbulbs, but also pillows and towels. You know what the difference was? He took a shower before he left.
Make a note.
