Karl (louderback) wrote,

  • Mood:



I went to the mall today with my family seeking wool-polyester blend pants that are lined. No dice. Such were not to be found at Sears or Penny's. Dillard's was a bingo but at an unacceptable price. C'est faire du shopping.

The revelation involved was that I am really not very good at getting around in unfamiliar surroundings. At home I know where everything is and I only rarely bump into things. In the mall, I learned how to find my way around with my shins. Bumping things in the mall gives me a feeling like seeing smoke against a clear sky and discovering the fire is burning books. It is, in short, profoundly and deeply disturbing on a level fundamental to my consciousness.

There are a number of things I can't do anymore. The list is growing and I don't like it. Shopping is annoying because not only am I having trouble navigating, but I just realized that I can no longer choose my own clothes. I don't like being dressed by my mother at my age (or by my sister for that matter). I am tempted to acquire a wife because it seems more dignified to be dressed by her than by my mother. *groans*

I suppose I'm whining. I'll shut up now.

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