Pier One Imports Horror

Yesterday I couldn't deal with "normal" life, so I escaped the mental illness-stewing flourescent fuck-bubble of an environment that I unfortunately occupy daily (my cubicle - depressed much?). Work has been slow lately and I am mentally done with it. Never a good combination. Anyway, I'm 30 and hate my job, join the fucking club, right Lewd Betches?

So, what does any super high depressed, PMSy lady do with an afternoon off? Why visit my local Salvation Army thrift store and Pier One Imports, of course!?


Okay, so that's not that scary, but what lies inside? Ugh. I must admit I'm not a frequent Home Decor shopper, or any kind of shopper (I'm an online shopper and I don't care for clothes shopping) for that matter. I had NO FUCKING IDEA what kind of bullshit they were hoarding there. Everything in there was like an imitation of something great (i.e., real potted plants = shiny plastic faux-flower vases; high quality artisan goods for kitchen/bathroom = tacky made-in-China crap that already looks like it's falling apart...)

Look, I don't mean to hate on fools that enjoy that kind of stuff. Lord knows I used to love a deal regardless of the quality of goods!

Here's my deal: I am sensitive to this world, especially chemicals and unnatural colors (unless it's neon!). The super-sweet smell of the candle area was nauseating and I think EVERYTHING in there was Made in China. I didn't need my eyes to tell me that I was somewhere toxic, I could smell it! For what it's worth, I think they are going out of business. YAY!

I urge all of you out there to go green. Be conscious. Find the green cause that affects you. I am slowly trying to integrate all-natural bath and body and eventually household cleaning products. I am also going to start an herb garden and see if I have any kind of green thumb.

I don't know if I've adequately expressed the Pier One horror. Obviously, I wanted to get the hell out of there asap. I left and saw a bus waiting at a red light on the corner. I ran and tapped on the door. The cunt-of-a-driver looks me straight in the eyes and shakes her head no. The bus remained at the light for a good couple minutes after that and then drove off. WTF?! I was in such a state that I cried. I hate mean cunts. She was ugly too. That's probably why she didn't let me on. I don't understand...see, this is what I mean by "sensitive." If I were a teen and that had happened, I would have kicked and spit. I spit on a bus driver once when I was 16 or so. I was a bad ass or an idiot, depending on your POV.


Oi!