Falalallama: The Ugly Christmas Sweater That Could

It all started with this ugly ass Falalallama sweater I found at the grocery store:

Yes.

I bought it.

I couldn’t walk past it when I spotted it in the grocery store even though it was probably made in a sweatshop and that bugs the shit out of me.

I bought it because I haven’t been home longer than to sleep for about two weeks, which means we were down to eating cracker dust and confetti corn, so I had to go to the fucking grocery store on a Saturday morning in a snowstorm.

I had to make said trip because Amazon Fresh stopped delivering groceries in my area on November 30. I had to make said grocery store trip with my seven year old spawn in tow, which means that the trip took almost THREE FUCKING HOURS and I spent $200 more than I usually do.

I never want to set foot in a grocery store ever again and also toothbrushes with spinning heads and a stack of sardines landed in my fucking cart.

The day is more than halfway over and I still have Halloween decorations out and the house is a wreck because I haven’t been home.

All of this to say that this is the most fucking offensive sweater ever and thank god there is a liquor store next to the grocery store.

This day, every single minute of it, was deeply, deeply offensive.

But as I moved through unpacking the groceries, I realized that there were so, so many more offensive things than the Falalallama sweater I purchased:

• I’ve just started a low carb diet so I had to read every freaking label before I put something in the cart.
• I forgot to buy half the shit I actually needed because I didn’t have time to make a list before we left for the store.
• I didn’t make a meal plan for next week either. So we’re going to be eating red meat with a side of Campbell’s soup for a couple of weeks.
• While transporting groceries home, one of the bags on the backseat slipped and knocked over the milkshake that was sitting in Smalls’ cupholder (leftover from dinner on the way to something on Tuesday). Most of it ended up INSIDE the bag of groceries, so I had to wash everything in that bag before I put it away. So now I have to clean the car in a snowstorm because have you ever smelled rancid milkshake when it gets heated up?
• Maybe I can wait until it stops snowing.
• I bought three blocks of cheddar and two boxes of butter. When I was putting things away, I observed three blocks of cheddar and two boxes of butter in the fridge. I buy these things every time I go to the store and I haven’t been fucking home to use the stuff I already have.
• There was no place for me to put groceries away because I still had Thanksgiving leftovers in the fridge. So I had to clean the fridge, take the trash out, empty the dishwasher, load the dishwasher, and wipe down the counters.
• All of this means that the entire grocery purchasing process took me approximately five fucking hours.
• While cleaning the kitchen I discovered Smalls’ lunchbox, which I hadn’t cleaned out from the last time I packed his lunch (1.5 weeks ago, as we were down to cracker dust and confetti corn which is the sort of lunch teachers tut-tut because nutrition). The soup container had leaked all over the inside of his lunchbox and it smelled like death. I dry heaved the entire time I was scrubbing it out.
• Have you been watching the news lately?
• I haven’t touched my yarn in weeks. I haven’t done anything creative in weeks. I can barely call myself a crocheter at this point. I mostly feel like a yarn hoarder, because I somehow keep buying more even though I’m not turning it into anything.
• I missed posting my yarn sales last Sunday, and then for the entire week could not come up with the time to do it.
• Instead of doing All The Things I set out to do today, I popped open a beer (whooooops, forgot that beer had carbs and put it back in the fridge to save for the beef stew later) and am sitting here looking at Falalallama sweaters and socks on the internet and blasting Beck’s Colors for the eleventy millionth time this week because that album is life.
• This mug though:

This has sort of been my entire last few months (absent the Falalallama sweater, which is new). I’m chucking 2017 in the fuckit bucket and calling it a year. Because I realize that none of this is about the fucking grocery trip or how messy my house is or whether the tree is up yet.

It’s about things that are too big for me to fix.

So instead of doing All The Things I set out to do today, I’m sitting at the kitchen table writing about not doing them because that’s what I need to be doing.