Friday, July 12, 2013

The Paper Passion Season

Yesterday brought an errand to the pharmacy to pick up a prescription.  Truth be told, I spend a great deal of my free time at the pharmacy.  The break occurs the minute the Home Health Aide enters the door.  The poor thing had to step aside one day as a night of terminal agitation had me clawing at the door.  LET.  ME.  OUT.  OF.  HERE.

Getting the prescription didn't contain any drama or humorous anecdotes.  I strolled the aisles just looking to see if my addled brain had forgotten anything.  I know this store so well I could recite the store plan by aisle number.

And then it happened.  I turned to the "seasonal" stuff.  You know, the stuff at the front of the store to get a shopper's juices flowing.  That aisle.  The incredible emotion grabbed me comprised of a mixture of joy and enthusiasm unheard of in this lifetime.  My heart swelled.  Ladies and gentlemen, it's School Supplies Season!  Yes, indeedy.  There.  I've said it.  I've exposed my paper passion.  The condition cannot be denied or pushed aside without feeling the train's left the station without me.

Since birth, this condition has plagued me.  I don't see the year as January through December.  My year runs from July to June.  My  month of preparation for those things pulp and ink, fluorescent blue to fluorescent pint and the mighty containers to hold them has been a highlight (no pun intended) of my life.  Oh the magic of getting ready for school!  It's a rush!

New notebooks send me over the moon.  Gazing at what's new in stationary makes my heart flutter.  I gently pick up a binder replete with zipper and handle.  My hands glide over it much like a mother caresses her baby's cheek.  I peek inside and smile at all those pockets.  Oh, what a haven for my research!  I remind myself to remain steady.  There's more to this land of "seasonal" goods that needs my attention.

New binder clips!   (Did you know there are 101 uses for these bad boys?)  Pens in every shape and color. Highlighters designed with ergonomics in mind!  Oh, my inner child's doing a happy dance which becomes more frenetic when her eyes spies the latest configurations of a staple.  That's right we've hit "Post-It" note land.  Good gracious every size and color one could imagine.  "Who wants to come home with me?" she says.

Thankfully, my number's called over the intercom.  This magnificent obsession needs to chill awhile before jumping in the cart.  "But, but are we going home empty handed?  Nothing?  Really? This isn't fair. (Mental foot stomping, almost grown into an all-out tantrum.)  I gather myself and head straight to the pharmacy.  Sure-footed and confident as a good parent should be.

Once in the car and out of new acquisition danger, "Remember, my child.  There's always next week."

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