Yesterday I spent about two hours shopping for important things we “needed” around the house:
- Ralph Lauren hand towels for the cats’ bathroom;
- recycled newspaper basket for the arts and craps room;
- coordinating throw blanket for the living area;
- magnetic reminder board for Bella’s room;
- scented wax potpourri.
Pfft, what a douchebag list.
While debating between the two decorative pillows I was holding, my brain experienced a weird synapse and exploded into a vortex of the yesteryear spent Crash Worship-ing.
Really, Crash Worship couldn’t be any more on the opposite end of the spectrum from Ralph Lauren Hand Towels for the Cats’ Bathroom. As I stood in the middle of the home furnishing store — staring at those pillows in my hands and unexpectedly remembering the uncertainty of loud, indoor fireworks and body paint and scary masks and percussion until the end of the mind’s eye — I wondered, How the hell did I travel the roads between point A and point B and wind up at Decorative Throw Pillows?!
Don’t get me wrong: I never wanted to spend my life wearing blue and red body paint in the nude, but I don’t think I ever wanted to experience the kind of frivolous stress reserved for folks who look forward to joining AARP either. There’s gotta be a happy marriage somewhere that comes in the form of something unlike Crash Worship novelty pillows (somewhere on Etsy, such blasphemy surely reveals itself).
In the meantime, wet kitties everywhere deserve a dry towel and a soft pillow…and a little Crash Worship from time to time.