bubbles

I have been working in a toy store full time fourth-quarter hell. I spend all of my time in the basement picking up after these strange little rich kids under fluorescent light (doesn't too much exposure cause Leukemia?). I even felt a little contempt toward one of the kids the other day--she was this priceless little mama's project (she wore the same specs as her mom, etc) who wanted the last set of these kitschy white beaded curtains (she wouldn't settle for any other colour) which was hanging in the display window. Now, the window is about half a foot away from a twenty foot drop down the stairs into the basement, and I had to move numerous display racks (breaking an expensive night light thankfully not at my expense!) just to get to this ledge where I balanced myself awkwardly in slippery shoes to retrieve the hideous bauble. A part of me wanted to smack that kid.

Anyways, despite the rant above, I don't mind my new job. It is a really great toy/gift shop and I can buy a lot of novelties worth having at a 20% discount. I bought some bubble solution the other day, and I haven't done that in a long time (they also sell fake mustaches, bobby caps, evil tampon cases and Jesus action figures. EVIL TAMPON CASES!). Blowing bubbles has occupied me--it is such a beautiful habit. I have been doing it constantly, much like a smoker smoking...the only drawback is, I have a layer of soap-scum on my bedroom floor.