Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Wednesday's Post: Brought to you by Disease

A dangerous disease is spreading rapidly across this country. It is more contagious than streptococcus, influenza, and mononucleosis combined. We spend more time and money treating the symptoms of this condition than any other. It is estimated that 9 out of 10 Americans will contract this disease at some point in their lives.

Are you scared yet?

Extreme symptoms of the condition are as follows:

1. Feeling a rush when you stand in a crowd of 400 people waiting for the grand opening of a store.
2. Getting up at 5 a.m. to go shopping the day-after-Thanksgiving.
3. Clipping coupons obsessively.
4. Ordering the Sunday paper just to get the ads.

The list goes on. I know the symptoms well. Not because I have the disease, but because most of my friends and family do.

Thankfully, I'm immune. The doctors aren't sure how it happened. In fact, they say it is genetically impossible. (Their words support the whole "we found you on the doorstep" theory my brother's told me about my whole life.)

Even though I'm a misfit, my family has made me go shopping with them since I was a kid. Their favorite motto is, "Just one more store". Nine hours later they usually find me

a) asleep in a clothes rack
b) ordering food at the nearest Taco Bell
c) counting the ceiling tiles for entertainment

I'll be honest -- shopping bores me. Unfortunately, like Typhoid Mary, I might not have the symptoms of the disease, but I'm still a carrier.

"Cute shoes!" people remark when they see me. "Cute shirt! Cute jacket! Let's go shopping and find cute stuff."

"Thanks," I say lazily, "My friends and family bought this for me."

Maybe that's the problem. I'm lazy. I want others to do the hard work. People gladly oblige because they know what happens when they don't. (I once ordered 7 of the same plaid pair of pants off E-Bay – one for each day of the week. The fam refused to admit I was related.)

It might be true, the whole found on a doorstep thing. But I'm going with the Typhoid Mary theory. Unfortunately, that only means I'm contributing to the problem.

Mom and dad, if you're wondering, I have my Christmas list ready…

No comments:

I know all about waiting--for the right guy, for high school to end, for my boobs to come in (two out of three ain't bad).


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