Cars, make up, house work

I finally took the Kia in for an oil change.  It was only five months past due.  I half-expected the guys at Walmart to laugh me out of the garage.  Monday must've been oil-change day for Altoona because there was an hour and half to two hour wait.  I said it was fine; I had to eat and do my grocery shopping anyway.

I stopped by electronics to check out Xboxes.  I'm thinking of getting Chris a new one for his birthday.  One that's wireless, so we don't have to drape that ugly blue cord all over the living room any more.  Then I walked up to McDonald's and got some food.  That took a while.  They claimed it was for my chicken nuggets, but I think they fried my fries three times while I waited; they were hard as wooden rods.

Anyway, after I ate, I started grocery shopping.  Halfway through the car/bathroom/paint section, I realized my ticket for the oil change had "walked" out of my back pocket.  (That's short for, "My ass is so big, as I walked, it pushed the paper out of my pocket.")  So I retraced my steps and found it in the cat food aisle.  Back to shopping.  I shopped on auto-pilot, mainly because, I hate grocery shopping.

I found a line that wasn't too bad and checked out.  I felt like a weirdo walking back through Walmart with my cart full of bagged groceries, but I certainly wasn't going to go outside and walk around the building to get to the garage!  My car wasn't done yet; it was about another half hour wait back there, as my eggs and milk got warm.  I opened the Hard Candy makeup set I picked up and looked at it.

I love the make up aisles.  I looked at the Hard Candy stuff for a looong time, and finally decided on a pack of new blush that came with highlighter, primer, and lip gloss sample-sized tubes.  I tried the primer today.  It was weird.  I'm not sure it made any kind of difference on my face or with my makeup, but I really like the new blush.  I don't have to use as much as my old one to get the color to show up and it's a little sparkly.

At Walmart, I also got plastic for the windows.  Tomorrow, since I'm off work, I think I'm going to plastic-up all the windows and start going through the mess of clothes Chris and I have.  Nothing is put away; each of us has a dresser that is pretty much empty.  I'm getting sick of living out of laundry baskets.  Now, I've been meaning to do this for a while now and I always get too lazy.  I'm really going to try tomorrow.

Oh, working on a new story.  I've pretty much finished the book I started for NaNoWriMo and, even "finished" it doesn't make the 50k mark.  Blah.  I'll let it sit for a while and go back to it some other time.

Catching up on some reading!

I've read two books this weekend and I'm working on my third.  All by Tess Gerritsen, who I'm becoming to love.  But now comes the weird part: does anyone else, after a weekend of reading, suddenly start having an inner monologue/narration?  i.e.

I pull my Kia up the wrong side of the road (oh, my dad would kill me if he was in the car right now) as close as I can get to the weird neighbor's crotch rocket parked at an angle against the curb.  Why does she even still have that stupid thing out?  It's October.  I haven't seen her ride it since July!  Oh well.  Mr. Previously-a-cop-car-driving-Neighbor likes to park right at the edge of the alley so it makes parking (for me, anyway) on the other side of the alley a little harder.  Well, if you ask Chris, it's a driveway, even though it has a slope of almost 90 degrees...so I guess it doesn't make it a very good alley either.

Mom and Dad's van is gone.  That's weird.  It's a little after 8 on a Sunday.  When Dad goes to school, he usually takes the Subaru.  Maybe they went to visit Great Aunt Verna in the nursing home. Probably.  I look up at our small, rented house.  Chris doesn't have the porch light or inside light on.  Only the $5 lighted skull decoration we bought at Walmart greets me.  Our neighbor has lights, wind chimes, and a huge blow-up black cat that turns in head back and forth.  What do we have to celebrate Halloween?  A lighted skull.  I don't care, I'm still proud of it. 

I can see the glow from the TV through the shut screen door.  Chris has the front door open for fresh air.  I head up the steps, hiking my jeans up as I go; remembering the horrid days we moved in last March.  I'm sure the whole neighborhood got to see my various underwear choices that week.  I could not keep my pants up going up and down those steps. Cold pizza, dirty paper plates, and red plastic cups greet me as I walk through the door.  Chris is in his usual spot: the recliner.  He's holding Baby and she greets me with squinty eyes.

Anyone else go through this?  All day, I've been narrating and talking to myself.