Yesterday was a great day at work… for reasons I’ll get to later on when I’m not inhaling all things caffeine. However, regardless of how cool my job has proven to be, I wanted to go out last night. However, finding a sitter last minute wasn’t working (it never does) and I got… well. Cranky.
If Cranky is inhaling a free starbucks and cursing god for the scuff on your stiletto boots.
So I needed a way to cheer myself up because apparently being responsible means I can’t go dancing as much. You know what I chose? For the 2nd time this week? RETAIL THERAPY.
You see, my wonderful parents gave me my birthday presents on Easter, one of which was a gift card to Target. EVERYONE knows Target. It’s that one store you can walk in for with the intent on buying toilet paper and walk out an hour later with $130 worth of CRAP. So for me it was the perfect gift card.
Now in all due reality… I really do hate shopping. I’ll go, I love buying new things… but it’s the actual act of looking for them that irritates me. I swear, I need to find a store that has nothing but my size of jeans and shoes and I’d be content.
Moving on. So. I had a long (but awesome) day at work. Noodle had a long (but awesome) day at preschool. And both of us needed some cheering up. So off to target I went! The intent was to buy Noodle some new sandals.
We ran into the store, and I got sidetracked by my need for an USB cord for my phone. We then spent 10 minutes explaining to some 16 year old know it all that
1. I do not need a usb with an adapter for 4 different phones.
2. I will NOT be buying another brand of phone soon.
3. I do know what I’m talking about.
4. That I’m not paying $14.99 for said USB cord with adapter.
Needless to say I left with out an USB.
After that Noodle beelined for the shoe department. I think I started something evil. This girl loves shoes more than I do (and for those who don’t know, I have a heels fetish… not in the sex kind of way, but in the I buy too many kind of way). She immediately sees these baby doll pink princess sneakers… and we then spend another 10 minutes arguing… albeit this time with each other. I won. Helloooo… being the adult has it’s perks.
She ended up still getting pink though, which is fine… because they’re totally functional… as long as they stay with me… and not the bottomless pit that is her Dad’s house.
I then dragged her to the make up isle where I picked out a lot of makeup that I refuse to explain on here. I think I’m creeping people out with my major eye make up binge lately anyway (btw, @Emily, I’m STILL looking for orange.). We also picked up new nail polish. Hot Pink for Noodle. Hot Orange for me.
By the time we left, we both had smiles on our faces and our moods were improved.
And my kid has hot pink fingernails.