Screaming children, frazzled parents, slow walking pensioners with bags full of change, punch ups in the carpark…..

Yes, the Christmas spirit is alive and well at my local shopping centre (mall).

Today I started my Christmas shopping. Usually I am almost finished by now. But nooo this year I am totally disorganised.

So I dragged my sorry arse filled with the joy of Christmas shopping I made my way to the home of off key Christmas musak. Seems everyone else in a 100 kilometre radius had the same idea.

Hence the car park punch ups. No I wasn’t involved. I was just standing around enjoying the show shouting ‘Kick him in the balls!’, ‘It was totally your park girl, pull her hair till her scalp bleeds’ with all the others.

City girl in me never died, so I walk fast. I shop fast. Old lady with the walking frame get the fuck outta my way cause I am on a mission.

Today’s mission was getting the rest of the paraphernalia for the outside decorating and the wrapping paper, cellophane, ribbon, cards and shit.  Remember this, it is important.

First port of call was the local coffee place. Make my order, stand in the required possie and wait. For 15 freaking minutes! Every bastard had the same idea as me. But when I got my extra large (I get them to make it in a milkshake cup) double latte with an extra shot, I kissed it and took off in my usual 500 miles an hour fashion.

Weaving through the prams, toddlers, aforementioned old people, disembodied heads on top of laden trolleys and strategically placed beggars people selling raffle tickets, I spied some really cute 3/4 pants. Hmmm, I have time. Lets try them on.

Yeah, it didn’t go well. Good thing I didn’t buy that holiday decorated icepick I saw earlier or I would have stabbed myself repeatedly in the eye to reduce the pain of seeing myself in the 3 way mirror.

Into the discount shop to find some cute but cheap frugal cards for the kids to give to their friends. Run into one of the feral mums from school. Am civil but talk quick and get the hell out of there. Cardless.

After an hour my feet are killing me.  These shoes are gorgeous, but not made for speed shopping.

I carry my bags full of Santas (got a thing for Santa *snigger*), lights and 2 bucks a packet candy canes out to the carpark.  Flipping the bird at the guy who nearly runs me down in the race to get another park.

I get home, unpack my purchases.

Shit.

Now I need to go and get the wrapping paper, cellophane, ribbon, cards and shit.

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I am going to come clean.  I wrote this last week.  Tonight I wrote a long and very personal post in response to some of the lovely supportive emails I received after yesterdays post.  But I guess I am not ready to share it right now.  I will, in time.  But in the meantime…….  

Thankyou, my internets.  You are all my biatches. 

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