Sunday, December 22, 2019

HOLIDAY SHOWERS BRING DECEMBER CURTAINS

Moving for the first time in fifteen years was a wonderful idea.  Moving weeks before Christmas ... NOT a wonderful idea.  Although the tree is up, the rest of the decorations are sadly lacking, and my shopping is not quite under control yet.

Imagine the pressure this puts on me whenever I do get out to the mall or to stores to start my shopping.  I'm already lagging behind, and I see decorations for people who take the holidays to an entirely different level.  For the love of all things sane, there are even Christmas-themed (and other holidays, too) shower curtains!  Who has the damn time or energy to change out the damn shower curtain every damn holiday?

That's how it all starts, anyway.

Actually, it starts at one store in the tablecloth aisle.  First I see outrageous silver place mats and think, Shit, I MUST have them.  Alas, nothing is priced.  Saved by the errant label gun.  Oh, but it doesn't stop there.  I edge over to the holiday-themed tablecloths.  (Please remember that I have just downsized in living space, and I am madly attempting to rid myself of my worldly possessions.)  But am I even hosting the holidays at all this year?  Do I truly need a silver and gray snowflake-infused cloth and gaudy, shiny mats if it's dinner for one?

I wander to the next aisle and discover holiday shower curtains priced out anywhere between $16.99 and $50.  Really, people?  $50 for a temporary shower curtain?  (Secretly, of course, I want one.)  I leave the store, completely resisting temptation on all household fronts (but not on other fronts).  On to the next store, which is a sister store in the same chain.

In this store, I say casually, "I'm just going to troll housewares for a few minutes..."  This translates to, "I'm about to drop a whoop-ass amount of my Christmas shopping money on myself and my new place."  I look around.  So far, so good.  Until ... until ...

Until I reach the shower curtains.

I paw through them, each one gaudier than the last.  Hmmmm, maybe this one .... maybe that one ... oh, look, Parisian dogs in berets ...  I cannot decide even if I were to buy one.  I turn to walk away when the price tag catches my eye.

$5.99.

I crap you not -- $5.99 for a curtain that's heavy duty and has a decent pattern to it.  But, remember: I do not NEED anything, not one thing at all.  I walk away.  I return.  I walk away.  I return again.  Oh, man.  I spent that kind of money on a sundae and a Coke at Mickey D's yesterday, and I don't have anything to show for that purchase except a new stomach roll.

So, folks, I am now the proud owner and displayer of Christmas via a vinyl shower curtain, and it's kind of fun and festive.  I start to understand what all the hoopla is about!  Maybe I don't, but I don't mind.  My bathroom is ready for the holidays, and, in the end, that's the room that really matters.