Friday, February 1, 2013

Where I find myself tonight

Remember when I used to blog about nothing important? Well, for some reason tonight just feels like one of those nights. Usually I get these sudden urges to tell the general public about my life on a Friday evening when I'm home alone doing nothing. Almost as though I need to validate my doing nothing with a blog post.


I have long since known that I am an individual with the remarkable talent to do nothing. Some people go stir crazy sitting in their apartment or house day and night without an activity to occupy their time. I however do not. I watch television, write, read, paint my nails, etc...I love leisure. I like having complete control of the time that I have at my disposal.

So, on a Friday evening after what felt like a quick day at work, I decided the best place for me to go was Michaels and Marshalls. These are not good places for me to go and hardly count as doing something with my evening. As a person with an uncanny ability to waste time, I should not be allowed in stores such as these.

I walk up and down the aisles. Pick up an item, put it back, find something else, decide for some odd reason that I need a miniature broom and perhaps also a package of stickers. While doing this, I usually have a starbucks beverage in hand. And I always mentally  thank two people...the person who invented the smaller cart as well as the person who invented a cup holder on the cart. These people really knew how to make it easier for aimless people like me to shop.


I rarely buy anything of value. Oddly enough, I have made it my rule that if I only have one thing to buy, I should put it back. Which usually means I have to get like two or three things just so I can buy that small broom.


Recently I've had another place that I go to waste time. And that is Petco. I might be inclined to spend my days and evenings in a very mild, leisurely manner, but deep down I think I am bursting with passion. I get overcome by overwhelming thoughts that I just can't seem to shake. And the thought I've been having is about wanting a pet. I went to Petco under the weird assumption that I would just get a pet. I wound up with fish. My attachment to my fish is a good sign that maybe I need a real pet. Or maybe a bad sign...I would love a dog. I would settle for a cat. I almost bought a hamster just to stick it to Roommate cousin who said I couldn't have either of the former. Then I remembered that I'm an adult and adults don't own hamsters.

Of course it isn't fair that Petco keeps three cats near the exit with large signs that say, "adopt me." And the sweet black and white cat always comes over to the glass as though she is just craving some sort of affection. She only has a few teeth because her former owner mistreated her. This devastates me. It breaks my heart into a billion pieces, and irrationally I believe the best solution is to adopt that cat. I had to lie to a lady and myself that Roommate cousin is allergic. I went in to buy my fish a larger plant, and I nearly walked out of that store with a cat. Fortunately I rationalized that I really couldn't have a cat because she might try to eat my fish, which I am doing my all to help flourish.

(Don't worry anyone who might be worried - I did not adopt this cat.)

Did you know there are a lot of rules about betta fish? They make me nervous. It is it warm enough? Light enough? Clean enough? Did I feed them too much? If properly taken care of they can live for 3-5 years. Eeesh. Who would ever want to keep a fish for that long?

I don't like dead animals. I think in a way it feels as though I failed them. As a result, most of the pets I've owned seem to live long past their expiration date.

This past week while commuting to work, I have encountered a decapitated bird lying on the sidewalk. I didn't take a closer look, but I assumed that it was dead. It astonishes me that nobody has moved it. A whole week has passed by and that nasty carcass still lies on the sidewalk. It grosses me out. I'm not sure what I hate more. A dead pigeon or a live pigeon. I think live wins. I hate them. They are like a mix between a bat, rat, and seagull. Yuck. Once while walking to work, a bird literally fell from the sky and landed at my feet. Thank goodness it wasn't a pigeon. And double thank goodness that it landed at my feet and not on my head.

Anyway, I can't decide if a weekend home alone would be better with a pet or somehow sadder. It is not that I want to be a cat lady. I just fear if I don't take them home, nobody will. I can't take them home. The main thing stopping me is the fact I don't think you can take animals on public transportation. It would look a little suspicious if I got on the brown line with a giant bag and a litter box. I really want a dog. But the nearest patch of grass is two blocks away. As such, I spend a concerning amount of time staring at my fish. Hoping that the fish named Oscar makes it to Academy award day, because I don't really believe in calling the next fish Oscar 2.



Well, buying fish led me back to Marshalls because if there is one thing I really value it is aesthetics. And plastic fish tanks from Petco with LED lights just weren't going to cut it. Now they live in giant chalices.


So there you have it, I've managed to nearly make it full circle. I went to marshalls today and bought one of those burning candles that sounds like a fire. Then I came home, made my latest favorite meal (a chicken patty on raisin bread with brie - sounds weird, but I love it), and watched the Vampire Diaries. And now I'm writing this post about nothing at all.


Well, I suppose the message behind this blog post is that I really truly have an amazing ability to do nothing.

And I wouldn't trade that talent for all the athleticism in the world.

Because now I'm going to climb into my closet bed with my woodwick candle safely nearby and read Prodigy by Marie Lu. I am going to do something with my evening after all. I'm going to help spark a revolution!

I've changed my mind. I don't possess any sort of ability to do nothing. I merely possess an over active imagination. And a thirst for a different type of adventure. The type you can only get through the written pages of an incredible book.



1 comment:

  1. Thank you for taking us on this journey with you.

    P.s. I'm continuously glad you did not buy a hampster.

    ReplyDelete

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