A Trip to Target.

I have to admit that I just got back from shopping in a big chain store, and it did wonders for my state of mind.

I bought a shower curtain. That's all. It was $10. It's nylon, but woven fabric instead of a sheet of plastic. The main thing is that it's washable. The mold in our bathroom has been fruitful with all this rain and humidity. I don't know if it will be this way every year; in fact, I doubt it -- "This is not typical!" -- but I got really sick of wiping the mold off the shower curtain.

The sun was out when I woke up today. When I was driving to Target, the sun was still out and it was raining. That was a nice change. Now, another thunderstorm. I am not complaining about the rain any more. I was bitching to Z the other day, and he said, "You know, the only people complaining about this weather are people who've never endured a Texas summer." In other words, "I'll give you something to complain about." No more.

After I found my shower curtain, I wandered around the store for an hour or so, enjoying the air conditioning and the pretty colors. I contemplated towels, gazed longingly at the bright orange plastic bowls and cups, fingered an Isaac Mizrahi quilted bedspread. I picked up a box grater, put it down, picked up another one, put it down. I shopped for t-shirts and underwear, marveling that they could be so white, so pure and clean. I found the styles I wanted, in my size, held them for a moment, then put them back. A handsome man in the camping department cruised me. And then I bought my shower curtain and came home.

I love Target. I'm sorry, I know it's a sin, but I just do.