Tuesday Blues

Tuesdays are not my friend.

Most people hate Mondays, but I welcome them with open arms compared to Tuesdays. So, in an effort to combat the Tuesday blues, I allowed myself a trip to Target on my lunch break. I’ve been really good about not going very often, mostly because my money magically disappears whenever I’m there. Does this happen to you, too? Tell me I’m not alone.

But I needed a little pick-me-up (and tampons) so I went.

I’ve been away so long that I just *had* to browse the shoe section because the last time I was there, winter was still wintering and they only had boots out. But yesterday I discovered the cutest pair of shoes and slowly but surely, my Target lady boner started to rise. I frantically looked for my size, but could only find the shoes in a half-size smaller. I tried them on and they fit perfectly on my right foot, but my left foot looked like a stuffed sausage (cause it’s a little bigger than my right foot) (ain’t that fun and cute?).

I walked away, defeated, but with a picture of the shoes on my phone so that I could order them online.

 

Next up was spray paint. I stumbled across quite possibly the only semi-dude section of Target about six months ago and recently remembered I saw spray paint there. I’ve been itching to refinish an old night stand of mine for about 3 years now, and since that’s the normal amount of time it takes me to do something, I figured it was time to get crackin’.

I found just the right color. Things were starting to turn around.

 

That’s until I went over to the grocery section, looking for a bag of Goldfish. Call me old fashioned, but I like regular old orange, cheddar Goldfish—none of that flavor blast crap for me, thanks. Turns out, I’m not alone, and I could not locate a single bag of cheddar Goldfish (although I did contemplate buying a couple of those giant boxes because they were 2 for $14 and that felt like a helluva deal).

There was rainbow cheddar Goldfish and even though those are supposed to taste the same, I can’t get past the different colors, and 100% believe they taste differently. I was left with only one option: Princess Goldfish—regular cheddar flavor, but in a pink bag with a goldfish rockin’ a crown on the front of the bag.

I picked them up.

 

I made my way up to the registers (after picking up tampons, which was the whole reason for my trip to begin with) and got in line. Anyone who goes shopping on their lunch breaks can understand the importance of finding the shortest and fastest line possible. I might have an hour lunch, but it takes time to get back and forth from the store to my office, and I still want to be to sit at my desk and eat my lunch without being bothered.

I mean, I would like to live my entire life without being bothered but I’ve accepted that as an impossibility.

The man in front of me had a few cases of soda and some smaller items—easy peasy, nothing to it. I would be out of there in no time.

Then he broke out his coupon folder.

 

It’s a running joke between me and Kelsey that I always choose the wrong line. I can’t tell you how many times we’ve gone shopping together, gone to different registers, and she ends up standing in front of the store, waiting for me. There’s photographic evidence of the time I was stuck behind an extreme couponer in Walmart and almost left my cart, and everything in it, for dead.

 

Anyway, there was an issue with one of this guy’s coupons (OFCOURSETHEREWAS) and the cashier had to call a manager over. But when I say manager, I mean, like, a 22 year old girl. The cashier could have been her grandfather.

They eventually figured it out and it was finally my turn. After the cashier scanned the can of spray paint, the register started making all sorts of strange beeping noises and for a split second I thought I won a prize. Like, “CONGRATULATIONS FOR NOT BLOWING YOUR ENTIRE PAYCHECK HERE IN THE LAST SIX MONTHS! Enjoy a free small popcorn from the concession stand!” kind of prize.

Not so much. It was beeping because he needed to check my ID in order for me to buy the spray paint.

We were both confused by this, but laughed it off. I mean, I do have a spray paint addiction, but last time I checked, A&E doesn’t have a show about spray paint addicts. However, if they did, my father would make a great spray paint therapist. The man cringes whenever I talk about all of the things in my house I’ve spray painted. Him and my mother recently bought a new TV for their living room and needed to buy a new TV stand. My mom offered their old one to me (because I’m my family’s charity case) and without looking up from my plate (because I was eating a free dinner at their house) I said, “I’ll take it, but I’ll spray paint it.”

Funny enough, the TV stand has never been mentioned again.

 

I paid for my loot and headed back out into the rain. Because why wouldn’t it be cold and rainy on a Tuesday?

I was starving and decided to open up the bag of Princess Goldfish so I could snack on them while I drove back to my office (no ride is too short for road snacks). Much to my dismay, the Goldfish were PINK. Well, more of a dusty rose, but STILL. I felt really duped.

Well played, Tuesday.