Dude. I went to one of those Just Between the Two of Us Friends and Lovers (or whatever) consignment sales today. For those of you not familiar with this special level of hell reserved for mothers (perhaps, fathers have a better sense of self-preservation?), this is how these things work: A company gathers used baby and kid items from folks, prices them, and then takes a commission off the top (I have heard 40%.) Then, they pack all this crap into a teeny, tiny space so that a single stroller barely fits through, much less a double (which of course, half the folks are pushing). Then, they crank up the heat so that everyone develops a fine sheen of sweat the minute they enter. The best part? They hire like a total of four people to cashier for all this. FOUR.
Dude. These events are complete chaos with frantic bargain hunters pushing themselves through the mayhem. I have been to one of these consignment thingies before, with mixed results. They are such a pain in the ass, but the selections are fairly good, even though the prices are a bit steep (garage sales are The Way To Go for steals.) So, why did I bother going today? I happened to see the signs for it yesterday and it worked out that I could just run by it this morning since it was near to me. I had a doctor's appointment, but I carefully budgeted time to wait in line. After 20 minutes of waiting in line, I knew it wasn't happenin'. I had to chuck all of my selections because I knew I would not make it out in time and there was no point waiting. Argh. What a waste of my time! I was not even going to save that much money, it was just that I liked the outfits I had picked. Bah. I will never attend one of those silly blackholes of my time again. I would much rather peruse garage sales and hunt clearance racks.
Dude. Remember that one time when I wondered if I had plantar fasciitis? The doctor confirmed that yes, plantar fasciitis is probably the root of my current podiatric evil. The other day, I stepped on the lifeless form of Baby Jaguar and holy CRAP, I thought I was going to die. So, the problem has not gotten better and until some certain people in this house learn to pick their shit up, I foresee a certain beloved baby feline will make his way to the Humane Society. Hopefully, a more giving family will adopt him. Oh. My. God. The agony.