Mary Birdsong

November1st

I dunno WHAT happened.

It’s all kind of a blur.

Jussa couple more stops... and I'll be done!  Done, d'ya hear??!!

Jussa couple more stops… and I’ll be done! Done, d’ya hear??!!

 

I went to therapy.  I remember that part.          Sort of.

And then… then some FORCE just took ahold of me (and my to-do list) while I was driving home and the rest is a blank. All I know is I’m home now staring at a bunch of shopping bags filled with crap.  Crap I needed, YOU know. Nothing frivolous.   Nothing fancy.  Just crap.  And I feel giddy.  NO shoppers remorse.  No call to a 12-step sponsor.  In fact, what I feel is INVINCIBLE!  Powerful.

And yes, okay, slightly aroused.

I feel like I just finished the IronMan of “To Do List” days and beat my best time by at LEAST 45 seconds.  Wait.  It’s starting to come back to me… In flashes… yes.  Yes, now I remember…

All I was gonna do was stop by the post office to mail a birthday card and a package.   That was all.  But one thing led to another and… I dunno, I was on fire, I tell ya.  I was like Ray Milland in Lost Weekend.  I was in…

The Errand Zone!

  1. Post Office? Check.                                                                                                                                                                                                                        1a. (Listen to crazy lady scream for supervisor? Check.)
  2. Staples? Check.                                                                                                                                                                                                                         2a. Not only did I remember to bring my Staples reward coupon for eight bucks that expires tomorrow; I also remembered to TAKE IT OUT OF MY PURSE AND GIVE IT TO THE SALES CLERK!? Wh-what?  Check?!? (Who AM I???)                                                                                          2b. Annnnnnnd I remembered to bring in the little Ziploc™ baggie of used ink cartridges that have been sitting in my glove compartment for MONTHS, so I could recycle them and score morebig bucks in Staples rewards! Chuh-eck.2c. Chit chat with the nice sales clerk (who couldn’t care less) about innocuous things like I used to make fun of my mom for doing?  Check.                           
  3. RiteAid? Ch-check! (The one on LaBrea & Santa Monica just had a fabulous makeover, fyi,  it’s GOOOO-ORGE!)  They even put in a nail bar.  A NAIL bar!  A bar filled with cheap nail polish– on sale!!
  4. PetCo?  Uh-ch-Check!                                                                                                                                         4a. Pretend I’m there just to buy kitty litter as a cover for scoring some sweet “herb” for my kitties from their pot dealer?  Check.

Bam, Buh-Bam- BAM! Puh-Pow! Zap!

Zowie-Quackers!

Must... get.... to bank!

Must… get…. to bank!

At one point I was no longer driving to each store but in fact was flying, untethered, through mid-air, propelled and held aloft by the sheer poetry of my purchasing precision!  I picked em off like flies! I allllmost squeezed in a last minute stop at a discount shoestore, but I didn’t wanna get cocky. Hubris- that’s what alllllways brings down the hero.  And those flip-flops I’m desperately searching for will just have to wait.

I have a friend named Lois, who likes to remind me that I am a human BEING.  Not a human doing.

Shut up, Lois.  Killjoy!

Mary Birdsong is an actress, a writer, and a  type A.

Mary Birdsong is an actress, a writer, and a type A.

I rode the wave today because it crested at just the right moment, and carried me along.    And for once I actually had the TIME to do this stuff.   I’ve been traveling all over the country on no sleep and working non-stop for almost a month.  So doing errands and laundry and making lists is actually FUN for me.  I fantasize about it when time won’t permit me to go get some GD Q-Tips.  Well, today, my friends?  Today that fantasy became a reality.

I think when I’m finally six feet under, I’d like my tombstone to read “Here lies Mary Birdsong- loving sister, daughter, and friend.  Also- she picked up her dry cleaning that one day right before they closed so she could wear her favorite shirt to that big-deal thing and looked cute.”

Check.

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