Wound up

Macy's says it is Christmas. It is September. Shopping for a wedding present for Mike to bring next week to New York, I walked through the giant Christmas tree displays with Gavin, admiring the ornaments. I seriously considered buying the happy couple a heart-shaped silver platter covered with ugly fruit and vines, but settled on a kitchen thing instead. At least I can drag out the awful crystal wedding frames we received at our wedding and re-gift them. Ha ha ha. (Um, the frames are beautiful, thank you so much, we just never got photos printed.)

Marketing works again. I chucked the Diet Dr. Pepper back into the case and snatched up a Diet Coke because of a sign that said, "1 in 6 wins a free 1 liter Coke product!" Once, in high school, I won a free Sprite, won another free Sprite from that one, won yet another from that one, and got kicked out of the grocery store by the manager (which was ok, since I was about to throw up a gallon of Sprite by that time anyway). I twisted off the cap and did a happy dance in the car. I'm a winner! So special.

But I was cold in class. I ran down to the vending machine at break time and bought a cup of brown swill with boiled ants instead of a cup of hot cocoa. I was prepared to drink it anyway, but after fishing out the 28th ant I gave up and dumped it in the bushes. I begged nickels off my classmates until I had enough for a cappuccino, threw that down on top of the coke, and shook like a leaf through the rest of the evening.

Thursdays. I didn't write a proper cover letter, as my assignment is due today, so I ran off the simpering cover letter I actually used for a job I applied for last week instead. I hope he doesn't mark it all up with red ink, as this will dash my feeble hopes of landing the job, seeing as I already mailed it in. I buttoned up my librarian shirt, slipped on my sneaky new black shoes, put on my jacket, and listened to my mother fret the whole way to the university. I hope she has a better morning.