Attention, Target Shoppers.

I am supposed to be reading my therapy book, but I have a few different things I’d like to write about before delving back into “Evocative Empathy.”

Because I am on the verge of having full-fledge AD/HD, I shall create an outline to avoid further distraction:

1. I hate screaming effing children
2. I made a new buddy at Target

Numero One.

My friends know that there is nothing I hate more than a screaming kid. I might be the most restless, tightly wound person that I know, which could add to my disdain for screaming children; but for whatever reason, I can’t handle it. I no longer shop at Target on Saturdays because I hate screaming kids so much. When I hear a kid screaming, I want to run over to the family and punch the mom in the face. Let me explain.

It’s always like this. There’s some stupid screaming a-hole kid, and the mom is pushing the kid in the basket, trying to appease him by saying, “Now, now, little Johnny, don’t do that --- quiet down. Would you like some candy? Would you like a toy?”

Really?

Explain to me why it makes sense to reward a kid for horrendous behavior.

Here, kid. Scream your butt off in public for no apparent reason, and I will give you a gift for ruing everyone’s day and damaging their eardrums.

I can’t handle it.

I think I may have some sort of hearing issue, anyway, because there’s a certain pitch in some people’s voices that makes me want to pull all of my hair out. I also can’t deal with loud talkers. My heart starts beating really fast and I get that crazy werewolf look in my eye like I will freaking beat you to death if you keep up that pitch.

I sleep with earplugs in every night. EVERY night.
I also have to wear earplugs when I take tests because I can’t handle the sound of scribbling pens and flipping papers. I can’t handle it. I CAN’T HANDLE IT, I TELL YOU!

Now, if I know I’m going to be going somewhere with even the REMOTE possibility of a screaming kid, I bring my Ipod, I plant those earbuds deep in my ears, and I crank up Otis Redding or Elvis at maximum volume.

I find myself at the grocery store picking out frozen pizza, watching a screaming kids’ mouth flailing open like a demon possessed bird, and as “Sittin on the Dock of the Bay” is blaring in my brain, I don’t seem to feel near as rattled. I almost feel like I know this wonderful, sneaky secret for calming my nerves, which doesn’t involve mind-altering substances. Go team!

Now, on to point number two. My new buddy at Target.

A few weeks ago, I was jamming out to “Suspicious Minds,” blocking out the screamers, and pondering which deodorant to buy. I was standing next to a lady who was sniffing every single brand. Secret. Sniff, sniff, sniff. Degree. Sniff, sniff, sniff. She sniffed every flavor of every deodorant [yes, I call them flavors].

Then she says to me, “One of them smelled like bug spray last time.”

I pulled out an earbud, let it drop, and “we can’t build our dreams with suspicious miiiiiinds” faintly echoed on my chest.

“What?” I asked.

“Last time, I bought one, and it smelled like bug spray. I don’t want to buy that one again.”

This was weird. I was sniffing deodorant, too, so why did she feel like she had to justify the fact that she was a deo-sniffer?

Mind you, it has never occurred to me that this is an odd behavior. If I’m going to buy something, I want to know what I am purchasing. So if it’s deodorant that needs to be sniffed, by golly, I will sniff it.

I found it weird that for some reason, she felt like she had to justify to me WHY she was sniffing deodorant. I wonder if I gave her my “judger” face.

I said, “Well, the clear solution here is to avoid buying the one that says ‘bug spray scented’ on it.”

She sort of half laughed and we continued sniffing deodorants.

Isn’t it weird how people do these things? I spend approximately 80% of my travel time dancing and/or singing at the top of my lungs in my car. I also “sing” the various orchestral parts of songs. It never occurs to me that other people could be watching and thinking I look ridiculous. I think if this thought ever DOES occur to me, I will not care.

I had like 30 other things I was going to write about in this blog, but I started it a few weeks ago, and I want to move on to my Baton Rouge blog, so I will go ahead and post this one and the BTR one shall follow. Thank you- that is all.