Thursday, May 13, 2010

That one time I broke that one promise to myself

I was just bragging about how awesome I am at keeping inane promises to myself, a la a brief mention and the electronic throwing of confetti HERE.

I am very serious about keeping promises and holding true to my beliefs, however pitiful they may be. I promised myself, approximately 1 year ago, that I would never set foot in Awful Superstore (ya know, the one that rhymes with "Mall Fart") again. I don't like Awful Superstore. I don't want to go to Awful Superstore. I hate that Awful Superstore makes me want to buy 23489723 other things other than the 1 thing I intended to purchase. I don't like the Awful Superstore employees. I don't like my fellow Awful Superstore shoppers. I just don't like anything, really.

::Cue this noise::

Yes, I realize this makes you realize how fun I must be at parties. Trust me, I am WAY more fun than you could possibly ever imagine at a party-like setting. Way.

So, with all of this being said I must confess something: I went to Awful Superstore last weekend. Willingly. After celebrating my 1-year anniversary of NOT going to Awful Superstore. I purchased something and walked all over the store, admiring the shiny toys and bright lights. It felt like I was cheating on the ACT in a feeble attempt to get into Harvard.

I blame my husband. Shocker! You see, our gigantic green and yellow piece of crap lawnmower recently began acting testy and my better half and I ventured out to find a solution to what ails our poor, dying grass cutting device. For a while, we were "those people," who left the dead hunk-o-junk sitting in the yard, hood up, for roughly 3 days. When rain was in the forecast, we covered it with a blue tarp. I could literally feel the classiness oozing out onto our half-mowed yard.

Our search for solutions led us to several locales, each of which recommended we go to Awful Superstore to check out their abundant supply of whatever part it was we needed. The rest is a blur, so I can't even recall what it was that we needed. It was a total bust, involving us walking all over Awful Superstore, some of us cussing, scratching our heads and others wishing for slow death. We did not find what we were looking for. I considered crying over spilled milk and the fact that I had succumbed to the pull of Awful Superstore.

Instead, I announced that I refused to leave Awful Superstore without buying something. Because that's a logical decision, right? I hate the place and refuse to support its evil ways but will return the favor by buying something.

Let me just say that the dog really adores her new bed. Really.

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