There are few things I love in the world more than Target.
Target is a spiritual experience. It is my Mecca. Seriously. I see God in sunsets, in the faces of children, and in the bed and bath aisles at Target.
It's right next to my nail salon, so it's a favored option to wander and sober up after a few too many glasses of the free wine. Even sober, though, I can meander around for hours, shopping needlessly, and never feel bored. This is a problem since it's also the only acceptable grocery store near me. It's also a problem because I've been on a fairly tight budget recently.
So today, I went in with a game plan. In my hand, I had a list of groceries. In my heart, a solemn vow to stick to the grocery list. With such a sound plan in place, I hoped to get out in under $75 or 30 minutes whichever came first. It would be a monumental point in my life, a turning point if you will. Finally, I'd be a responsible grown-up.
And then I saw the firemen. Sunday afternoons are like Firehouse shopping day or something. They're always in there on there. Typically I don't mind this at all. In fact, some Sundays, I fantasize about setting a fire on Aisle 12. Not because I'm a firebug or anything, just because, you know... Wowsers.
So I got a tad distracted.
I also realized today why I usually just listen to a podcast while I shop. There's no need to sing along with a podcast. Especially to sing along at an unusually loud volume with JT. A few people got a pretty good performance of "Mirrors" while I browsed hair care products. I might have even danced a little. If so, I'm sorry, Target shoppers.
And, yes, I am the weirdo with ear buds in while at the store. I find it deters salespeople and small talk -- two things I'm not good at avoiding otherwise.
I did allow myself to take one quick browse outside the grocery aisles just to snap a few photos of wish list items. Plus, one of the fire guys was investigating a new bath mat. I swooned a little. Not gonna lie.
All in all though, I'd call today's Target adventure a success -- $80, 45 minutes, no fires, and only slight humiliation.
This responsible grown-up stuff ain't easy, y'all.