Pardon My Venting

I am very thankful and I know people out there have real problems...

...but I need to vent.

Dear neighbors, I really don't know what has brought on your recent obsession with Celine Dion, but please consider that the rest of the building may not want to listen to "The Power of Love" on repeat.

In other news, you are not allowed to complain about Christmas shopping unless you have no car.

Imagine buying all of your gifts, boxes, wrapping paper and then carrying them home. There's no such thing as one-stop-shopping here so one must be prepared to wander around the entire island of Manhattan. You might be sitting there wondering why I don't consider doing all of my shopping online. Two words: no doorman. I could send everything to my office, but then I would still have to get it home. Plus, there are so many great stores here so it seems silly to avoid them.

Alas, I choose to enter the war zone.

I suppose you can attempt to plan on purchasing any heavy items at the end of your shopping adventure, but let's be honest - that never happens.

"Oh look! This large heavy bowl would be perfect for him!"

Let's just say I spent most of today trying to evenly disperse the weight between my two shoulders, two arms and two hands and un-spinning the bags every time my fingers looked a little too purple. Eventually I'm lugging around so much, but yet I see something that I absolutely need to check out...

...don't mind me as I unload all of my bags on your store floor so that I may touch the pretty scarf.

I actually do enjoy Christmas shopping; I find myself singing along to the music and getting a little too excited about picking out wrapping paper and ribbon. I hate when I'm all cheery, though, and I get up to the cash register and I'm greeted with "hey..................you find everything ok? kay........$13.87.............." 

My response method? 
Smiling really big and shouting, "Merry Christmas!" 

It doesn't always work.

You know what I'm talking about, don't you? As you stand there trying to pick out the exact change, you can feel the impatient eyes burning through your skull so you grab the 20. Easier, you think. But then he or she hands you back a wad of cash, change and a receipt while simultaneously yelling, "Next!"

Sometimes I really want to scream, "I'M NOT READY!"

Don't you realize I have to unzip the little part of my wallet for my change and then I need to put the bills in a separate wallet compartment and THEN I need to fold the receipt and put it in my designated receipt holder and THEN I need to zip my purse and THEN I need to load up each shoulder, arm and hand with the bags that have been sitting on the floor during this pleasant transaction?

And sometimes - sometimes, I forget to zip my purse so when I lean over to pick up my shopping bags, something falls out. Usually my phone.

I have problems.

One more quick complaint before I go. I hate my radiator. If you need a refresher, please refer back to post #1 . It's been on for quite some time now, but apparently the colder temperatures have caused it to go into psycho mode. Every two hours, it literally sounds like someone is standing next to my bed and smacking the radiator with a hammer over and over and over again. The first two nights I just deliriously laughed. Last night was a different story as I sat up, threw back the heavy covers because I was about to suffocate, and yelled at it.

Yes, I yelled at the radiator. Looking back, I don't remember cursing or saying anything aggressively witty. I believe I shouted, "Can you please be quiet?!"

Good to know that I'm polite to inanimate objects. You win, radiator.

Did I mention I hate you?

Thanks for letting me vent.

until next time,

g