I have had a totally overwhelming couple of days. Family drama, work stress, weather, traffic...the works. migraines. dark circles. I'm a hot mess, and not the good kind.
Somewhere in my throng of maniacal erranding this afternoon, I found myself with 30 minutes to spare, and I just HAPPENED to be a couple of blocks from my LQS. I popped in thinking I'd browse or just sit on the sofa by the cookies and breath in happiness for a minute.
So I took an innocent stroll back to the clearance room (YES! there's a clearance room! but it totally sucks. you don't need to go check it out. nothing good is ever there.), and just like Rachel Zoe, I die.
I lose myself. I black out. I am screaming, pulling bolts off the wall and piling them on the floor in a mountain I think I'm going to carry out to the cutting table.
I'm texting. I'm shouting. A woman drops and loses her wedding ring. I'm on all fours, both looking for it and also defending my mountain.
Ooh, look, Katie Jump Rope!
More texting. Garden Party. More texting. I can't carry it. I need a cart. I ask the ring lady to watch my mountain while I run to get a trolly from the front of the store. I'm suspicious.
Now the cutting begins. Actually, there was just a little cutting. A few half-yards here, a yard there. And many "Gimme the whole bolt, Granny!" exclamations.
Honestly, I totally lost it. My brain malfunctioned. 8 bolts and 40-some-odd yards later, I'm looking at this stack and I'm starting to come to my senses.
Suddenly I remember that I resolved not to buy fabric in January. Granny has gone to the back room to get a bolt they haven't inventoried yet for me.
Granny: You want the whole bolt of this one?
Me: No...I'll just take, um, 4 yards.
Granny: You sure? There's only about 5 here.
Me: Oh, all right. But if anyone asks, I'll say you forced me.
Now this is why I love being a female. I proceed to say something about how my husband will flip, and Granny says, "I've got some plain brown bags under the counter. you need me to pack it in that instead of the normal one?" She is totally serious.
At this point, we hug. I jump a little, even.
Also, there's a brown grocery bag on my front passenger seat right now. My husband is blogging at the kitchen table, and I don't want to risk it.