I went to Ikea today. No wait, let me retype that. I went to Ikea on a SATURDAY. If you didn't need medication before you made a weekend Ikea visit, you'll need to borrow some from your corrupt friend afterwards. (Making "call me" hand signal). I went to return some drawer organizers that were the wrong size. They were the wrong size because I have no sense of spacial relationships. I disregards measurements and eyeball it. Like the time I bought the cutest set of stools for the kitchen on Ebay for only $9.99! When they came they were 3 inches high.
Anyway, I get a little flustered in a big crowd and so by the time I got up to the returns desk I was a bit overwhelmed. And I had forgotten to take my Stattera this morning so I took all three pills at once on the ride over. By the way, don't do that. I'm pretty nervy and chatty as I talk to the cashier. Plus I have no receipt. So because I realize I'm med-sweaty, talking overly fast and returning something without proof of payment, I'm convinced that the cashier thinks I'm a big stinking Ikea thief that smuggles out 20 x 20 silverware organizers.
So in a vain attempt to win her over I ask, "Hey, have you gotten any Oak Mite Bites? I sure have!" and pull my neckline over so she can see the giant raised welt on my shoulder. Cause, nothing brings two people closer than...sharing diseased skin? I have no idea why I did this. She was totally trying to be polite, but now I had started the topic and needed to keep going with it to convince her I was sane. I'm not so sure it worked. By the end of our transaction I'm pretty sure she had visions of me ducking and rolling outside to avoid these imaginary Oak Mites that she had never even heard of. (They're totally real!)
Plus, I bought the wrong size silverware organizer again. Damnit. And the receipt? No idea. So now I'm going to have to go back a second time, returning what looks to be the exact same thing. I'm totally going to stand in her line and show her the scab I have from scratching a spider bite.