An innocent enough question, but the smile on the Marshall's customer service lady's face quickly transformed into a puzzled frown. Probably because her query had made me break out into a cold sweat. Yeah, on this--the coldest day of the year.
Heck no I wasn't going to be doing any shopping. Already I had been to Dillards, Macy's, and Anthropologie in search of this Christmas present's original home, and I pretty much wanted to throw up from the pressure of all those gorgeous clothes displays.
What was I thinking, what was I thinking, making this resolution? No clothes purchases until 2011? Seriously, did I really think I'd be able to try on clothes without buying them?
One whiff of those purses in Macy's and I knew I was in trouble. I actually ran for the doors in Anthropologie, grateful that they didn't carry this sweater's brand so that I wouldn't have to stand there throughout the whole return process, bombarded by their adorable, quirky clothes.
At Marshall's, I knew I was just one tiny road bump from falling off the wagon. And oh god, they had to go find the original price of this gorgeous, (sadly itchy), evil sweater. The sweater that had thrown me, full-throttle, back into the shiny, too-tempting world of sweet retail bliss.
Why didn't I just keep the damn thing? It was my color, it was a cute cut, it was new.
But it was wool. Stupid sensitive skin. The rash I'd have gotten from wearing it probably would have been easier to bear than a full hour and a half of walking through department stores with a determination not to buy.
So the Marshall's lady wanted to know if I'd shop while they looked in the back for the sweater's price. I considered just giving it back to them, considered waiting outside in the car, and then realized I'd been waiting way too long to answer a seemingly simple question.
I nodded, and scurried over into the far recesses of Housewares. There I resigned myself to examining their strange collection of coffee cups, kitchenware, and furniture. In great detail. Jonesing for a purchase, I found myself considering buying a cup shaped like a chicken, an incomplete stemware set, a green velvet ottoman.
I left the store exhausted, but triumphant. On several counts--I did not buy any clothes, I successfully returned the sweater, and I did not foolishly acquire any whimsical/useless housewares.
What is this, Day 7?
This is going to be a bit more challenging than I thought. Next time I want to wear myself out this much on a week night, I think I'll go to the gym and run. Sprints.
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