Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Conquering Phobias*

It was time. After several years, Poker Chick needed to face her nemesis. Not for herself, but for the mini. Unfortunately, this was easier said than done. The very thought of it sat there in her head like a huge thereat. It sent stress signals throughout Poker Chick's body, made her nerves jump, evoked all latent and conscious feelings of inadequacy and took her to that deep, dark scary place she usually can't cope with.

That's right, peeps. Poker Chick went to the Container Store.
You see, domestic skills are not exactly at the top of the list of Poker Chick's talents. Big shock, we know. But household organization is a big part of that. And somehow that neatness gene skipped this girl. She just doesn't have a clue how to put things together, where to put things, basically all those things that people do that make a house a home - yep, she ain't got it.

So it follows that walking into this store, this shining beacon for scrapbookers and neatniks, is like walking into hell. Panic ensued pretty much as soon as she set foot in the door. All sorts of gadgets and gizmos she not only didn't know existed, she doesn't know what to do with them. What would you use a 2" box for? What about a 5" one? What about a bigger one? Why are there 300 different kinds of tupperware? What's the difference? She looked around and wondered how other people (normal people) get their closets to look like that. How do they avoid those piles of "stuff"?

The panic got worse. Poker Chick felt claustrophobic, the store began to close in on her. Normally, this is the point where she backs out and walks out in tears. She can't do it. This stuff is just too scary. But with the husband and mini in tow as well as her close pal, there was no way out. They were on a mission and the mini needed those toys organized!!! They simply cannot be all over the living room floor anymore.

The husband helped. Poker Chick had predetermined they had a lot of underutilized closet space in the mini's room they could use to magically organize stuff. So the husband measured. And off they went. Resolving to face her fear, Poker Chick grudgingly held the blue buzzer handed to her as she waited for "help".

It would appear that storage does not, in fact, make you smile

Only the help wasn't helpful and she knew it wasn't going to be. See, designing a closet is not for people who hate this kind of crap. It's for those that love it. So if you hate it, and worse - don't know what to put where, they look at you like an alien from out of space. Poker Chick could practically hear this saleswoman scream "What kind of a mother are you? How do you not know this? What's wrong with you?!! Are you even a real woman?" Poker Chick was suddenly regretting her ignorant questions ("what do you put in here? what about here? where would you put a toy like this? books?") She was also confused. Aren't these people here for the sole purposes of answering these questions? Apparently not. It would appear that other people are not as dumb as Poker Chick in this arena of the home. She somehow missed that class in life.

Easier? Surely they jest.

But no worries!!! The Container store, and its best friend - Real Simple magazine were here to remind Poker Chick of her failures!!

Still, she came, she went, she purchased.

Maybe the boxes are still unopened but doesn't that still warrant some kind of recognition. A little credit? Yeah!!! A little credit!
*For those inquiring, this is the prequel to the post in the works on femininity.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

We LOVE those big plastic bins. One for cars, one for trains, one for animals, one for dressup, one for instruments... But you probably could have guessed that without me telling you.