Kari, Kari, Kari. Has your blogging really come to this?
Yes, yes it has. I ran to Target the other night, in my "home" maternity pants (= should not be worn in public), face splotchy and eyes red and squinty from allergies, looking and feeling like a train wreck, to buy such prosaic items as storage bins and little girls' underwear. Didn't even bother wandering through the dishes or clothing, which sometimes give me a thrill. I was simply too tired, and feeling wholly dull.
On the way to the check stand, a splashy display of kaleidoscopic purses, totes and wallets jumped in front of me. Hey, I've been needing a new wallet. My current one has been threatening retirement.
But it's such a commitment, and it takes so much time and thought to find just the right one, with all the right compartments, to fit my personal wallet style. And is Target really the best place? I'm sure there's a better selection somewhere else.But wait - what's this? Floral, vintage, laminated, magnetic, roomy, and oh-so-adorable. I can't think any more tonight. Sold.
I was still wearing the shouldn't pants. I was still extremely fat, splotchy, and dull. On the outside.
The untrained eyes at Target probably never picked up on the transformation that had taken place in a few minutes and the exchange of $14.99 + tax. But these are desperate days for one Disco Mom, and I do what I can, and what I must, to get through. So when a new wallet makes me feel alive, even a little (gasp!) sassy, I buy in. I buy in big time, and it's worth every penny.