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shopping
When I walk in the doors of a department store the first thing I notice is not the store but actually myself. Because of the stress it takes simply to prepare for such an event, I cannot even bring myself to enter a mall on some days. Shopping is a rigorous task but the hardest part is not the actual shopping but the pre-shopping that wares the average person out. When I plan to go shopping I must find the energy to flip through my cluttered phonebook to find someone with the same stamina. Then once a partner is found I have to take a quick shower, doing only the bare minimum to achieve the fastest time to get in and out. Often I try to do multiple tasks while in the shower trying to lather my hair while balancing on one leg shaving is one I have conquered. I have the scars to prove it. My mind is busy worrying about what I will wear as the partially warm water washes over my hair to my toes. Racing through the routine I finally get out planning to get dressed. Then comes the actually getting dressed that takes the most out
The colors that I do not know what I was thinking when I bought them. I put the closest to cute outfit on, of course the one that will be uncomfortable in an hour anyway. The favorite clothes that I managed to stain. There are the drawers of the last season clothes that will not do. Then I have to exfoliate and moisturize and condition with potent fragrant lotions. Or the finally comfortable dress, that now has a hole in it. The only reason I am going shopping is to find something to wear depressing my mood to find a temporary outfit. As well as the socks that must be clean and match, because I would hate to be looked at if they were dirty, holy, or unmatched. I try to curl or straighten or do anything that I know my limp hair has no capability doing. Digging through the ruffage I have to also find suitable undergarments, because if I find that perfect, low cut, shi!rt I would hate to look unfashionable with my tattered bra strap showing. Taking sometimes over an hour, the rigorous cycle is almost complete. The car engine in the driveway ceases and my friend gets out to come to the door. We turn on the television and give up. There are the items grandmother knitted that won't see the light of day; especially since I have no clue what they actually are supposed to be worn on.
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