A Particular Kind of Snotty April 15, 2009

not just any box

And then it struck me that this might be particular behavior. Even for Wal-Mart.

The scene was this: Me in my too tight jeans (the last ones that fit, stupid unemployment) that end just a bit too low on my rear-end for the shirt that I am wearing. Now to be clear, this is not my fault. When I left the house I was paying particular attention to my jeans/shirt ratio, and found myself to be perfectly covered in all areas.

But that was before this.

I was experiencing a slight breeze in the midsection because I was stretched out on tip-toes, pushing boxes aside, even flailing a little, in order to reach my prize.

I could see it.

It was within my grasp! Top shelf, over my head, behind all the other ones.

My precious.

Bringing a few extra down with it, I grasped my cardboard treasure in one hand, while pulling down the back of my shirt with the other.

I saw the other Wal-Martians eyeing me. Could have been the teal undies peeking up, but more likely they were wondering about my sanity.

See, there’s an industrial-sized aisle in Wal-Mart stocked with paper goods. And in that aisle, maybe 40% of it is taken up by boxes of tissues. The tissue peasants around me might think that any of them are good enough for my darling-little-turned-up-button-nose.

They’d be wrong.

First of all, I am brand loyal and need a Kleenex. Unless I have a full-on cold and go over to Puffs-Plus, but that’s a whole other story. Thing is, all I have now are tree pollen issues. Those require a mid-level tissue. Category Orange alert, you might say (yeah, I could have set it at Yellow Alert, but I’d never sink to that level, never).

Those ones there? Middle shelf? They’re like sandpaper. The ones to the right? One swipe and my skin will start to flake off like dandruff. Ever see face dandruff? Not pretty.

But there, at the end of the row. Kleenex Plus Douces. I have no idea how you say it in English, the French version on the package always stuck in my mind. Plus fine, plus douce, plus résistante. What’s it mean? No nose dandruff.

Now you might think that is the end of my search. You’d be wrong.

Because Kleenex Plus Douces comes it a variety of pattered boxes. And all the patterns are awful. They look like the very worst prints you’d ever find on a Wal-Mart bedspread. I only like one, that one looks like a Target bedspread, and the upgrade is enough for me.

Sometimes you have to work for what you want. And sometimes, that means feeling a breeze go by your belly button. I suppose I could invest in a few pairs of Wal-Mart jeans to close the gap, but you wouldn’t believe the hang ups I have in that aisle…

Something in the air March 20, 2009

“I think somehting’s in bloom,” I say, wiping my nose for maybe the 1000th time today.

I’m getting the incredulous look from Husband. “You think?” Oh yes, quite incredulous.

“Didn’t you see it all at the store today?”

“All the what?” I have to speak up because the leaf blowers are going outside again and the windows are open. Next thing I know the coffee table is covered in green haze.

Apparently the rest of the world is quite aware of the crazy high pollen levels. It is why the carwashes are so busy, why the porch furniture is dusted with green and why the leafblowers are going like mad at the houses with oaks. Well, the houses with oaks that care about such things (We have 3 oaks and no leafblower).

I just know that we’re running out of tissues and sneezing is routinely causing the cats to scatter. We’ve had the windows open for the past two weeks (see the “unemployment” category).

I never used to be affected, but I never used to sit in a room with open windows and a cross breeze all day by a computer (see “unemployment”). Now I understand what all those allergy commercials are about.

And with my new relevations and the Thursday night leaf blowing extravaganza, all those windows came crashing down and the AC was turned up. Sudafed was also employed. It’s nice to see someone getting work.