Paper, Plastic, and Pet Peeves

Just when I thought my day was going to be great, I had an encounter with plastic. Now….this is not an act of crime, an incident involving national security or world hunger, but still. It sure stole my Karma for the day.

I battled shrink wrap.

I hate that stuff. You know…. sealed plastic which encases a product so it is all nice and pretty and begs, “Buy me!” at the store. My tools of entry consisted of: scissors, a screw driver, and a paring knife. We won’t discuss the state of my now forever-damaged fingernails. I don’t know…you probably heard my colorful language and saw the dogs retreat out the back door. Still wondering why my sweet neighbor didn’t call the police thinking I was fighting off an attacker. I was wicked angry. I super promise: if I ever become President of the United States, I will veto any product that comes in shrink wrap. Now….there’s an issue for China. Just slide that junk I buy in a nice ziplock bag, thank you very much. Otherwise, it will sit on your docks and rot. Told you I was mad.

Why does life have to be so hard?

To add to my furor, I had to shop for that stinkin’ shrink wrapped stuff and place it in a possessed shopping cart. Now…if you have read my book, you know that story, ‘The Shopping Cart War’ can be just that: a war. You know…the cart that locks up, squeals, and takes an amateur body builder to turn it into the check-out aisle.
A cart that strips you of all intelligence and reason and makes you want to beat it with your stellar ‘Thirty-One’ bag for, oh, thirty-one minutes or so. Expect a crowd; some will be watching in horror–others will be cheering you on. They know.

Sigh.

Before you think I have just lost it, let me throw out another tool of insanity: tape dispensers. I have it under great certainty that there are torture chambers in which folks must try to find the end of tape. And then, try to lead off with a piece that doesn’t rip off into tiny ribbons of crap. I am telling you now….I can hurl a roll of unruly Scotch tape, well, clear to Scotland. Now I know why they invented–and consume–Scotch! Named after some roll of tape, I’ll betcha! I must admit, my favorite ex-husband would methodically roll off the teeny tiny edge of tape—any kind—and fold it under so I did not have to belabor finding the end of the roll. Yeah, he had tamed that demon. But not before consuming lots of Scotch. Just saying.

Okay. I feel so much better now. I have placed my day’s trials and tribulations at your feet for safe-keeping.

And if life ever comes gift-wrapped in paper or plastic….you know which one I will pick. It may not save a tree, but at least I will have my good wits about me. And I won’t have to wrap up my life story with some shrink. Am I funny or what??

Okay. No ex-husbands are allowed to answer that last one. You know what I can do with tape.

Oh my. Perhaps that last sentence needs revision. Guess I am in worse shape than I thought. Do you think it’s time I dispense with this blog and cart myself off to the shrink?

Or maybe you could share your pet peeves with me and we could vent together…our own little therapy group.