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10.13.2002 - 4:48 p.m.

Sunday

I went hog wild at the mall today. Rooting and squealing and grunting, even.

I decided this morning that it might be fun to tool around the Bellevue Square mall; I wasn't sure what else to do with myself today. I really hadn't planned on buying anything at all - window shopping sounded appealing enough.

It was when I was in Nordstrom's that something snapped. I went to the Lancome counter (fighting against the intimidation I always feel when approached by those lab-coat-wearing, perfectly painted women) with this half-memory of some ad I'd seen in the paper. Gift bag with $25.00 purchase. I walked away with an overpriced salve with the purported capabilities of smoothing and softening skin, and the free little makeup kit dealie too.

From there I headed to the hosiery section, where I bought some socks, and a black pair of tights with white stripes running down the sides. Racing stripes, said the packaging, and I thought: yes!

I was in a giddy rush now, and feeling my oats from the successful encounter with the whole scary Lancome thing, so I went to Victoria's Secret. V.S. usually just makes me feel inadequate and lumpen, but this time I breezed through, picking up a slutty negligee (so appealing when coated with dog fur), and three insanely sexy panties that at least appeared not to have the potential for crawling halfway up my large intestine.

Now I had my little telltale pink-and-white striped V.S. bag bouncing against my Nordstrom's bag, which thrust me into a snooty shopping demographic that I didn't feel comfortable with. So I ducked into the Gap, where I bought a wine-colored turtleneck sweater, a soft comfy beige little zippered sweatershirt thing, and a red-and-beige striped shirt.

JB, if you're reading, everything was so totally on sale.

My last stop was at the Bon, where I got two pairs of jeweled chandelier earrings, which will probably just make my ears itch and ache, but were completely irresistible.

This splurging is really not typical for me. But it felt so good. Except guilty, at the same time. Forbidden. Exotic! Smoldering! Shopping is like porn!

Well, it sort of is. Shut up.

:::

So I had missed a day of work last week because I had a cold. Not much of a cold, but Workplace is teeming with hypochondriacs and their stern view on sickness is to stay home. It's called the Workplace Sick? LEAVE! policy. Which is hunky dory by me, no objections here.

The random thing is that a few of my friends at work decided that I was skipping work because I had decided to quit. They came up with this bulletproof theory after several drinks Friday night, and called my cell phone to leave two long, blathering, slurred messages about how they didn't want me to go. "We (hic!) would mish you!"

I wrote them all emails that night, joking about how I was flattered that they found me incapable of succumbing to a common cold, and that there had to be a different explanation for my absence. I assured them I wasn't planning to quit, and thanked them for caring. This is the email I received from Molly, my office-mate, later that night:

----- Original Message -----
From: "Molly "
To: "Sundry"
Sent: Friday, October 11, 2002 10:31 PM
Subject: Re:

> I swear to my drunk god selgf that I doont' iwant you to leavvvv
> rwe!!!!!

I mean really. Don't ever drink and type, people. It's not worth it.

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