It's Christmastime and I don't feel like shopping

Yep, you read right. I don't want to shop on Christmas time. I'm afraid to even go out to buy groceries. I don't want to stress myself about buying stuff endlessly and realize that Christmas is over and I don't remember the meaning of it. Christmas is about family, friends, a good time and a couple of laughs. I know it has some religious meaning (which I respect), but I'm no fanatic. And going to church a couple of days won't make up for being a maniac on Black Friday. I don't even understand what it is that people have to buy so desperately. It's not 2012 and your kids won't die if they don't get an IPad. You can survive without a 3D TV. Don't get it this year? Next year you may have the chance. People, and the obsessive and compulsive shopping, end up ruining Christmas for everyone. I better get some courage. I need to buy milk and bread.

Sick and Disturbed

What should I do?

When you get sick and you still have a job, you have two choices: call off or go to work sick. You call off , and it's a big drama. No one believes that your pain and suffering is big enough to do such an atrocity as to call off. But if you are sick like a dog and show up, then you are stupid. And if you are not visibly sick, then you are a liar. I used to underestimate the complains of many patients in the past. Now that I'm a patient myself, I know better.

Sad to Watch

There are some things in life that are sad to watch. Not, only sad... but painful. Like watching a rhinoplasty or someone losing some teeth. Yea, you just want to look away. Pretend that it doesn't exist. But, what happens when you have to experience that sensation every day, multiple times? It hurts your neck with how much you are trying to look away. Some situations can't be avoided. Others, are created out of thin air. Stupid people create a lot of sad things to watch. It would be so easy if people would try to use some common sense.

My Bra Specialist...

Everybody knows about Victoria's Secret... And the underwear is really cool. So, from time to time, I do an extra effort to go inside one of those pink stores. Well, I knew exactly what I needed, but even when the store is pretty darn small, I couldn't find it. One of the ladies working there helped me out and asked me which size I needed. I'm never sure so I told her the in-between. Oh boy, a five minute trip to VS became a 30-minute journey of BS. I patiently listened to her, while she measured me.
"What size are you wearing?"
"Oh, I'll have to measure you again. I'm not getting that".
This was turning into an embarrassing moment with no Twix to pause it. So, I prepared myself to the tsunami, thinking that I'll be booted out of VS and sent to Wal-Mart to get some training bras. I was not prepared for what I heard.
"Yes, you are close to 34 but the size is...."
I just laughed. I looked at her and I realized she was serious about it. Then I saw her name tag: "bra specialist". She's taking this seriously.
"Are you serious?" I said.
"Most women use the wrong size"
"Are the VS sizes unique? Because I've seen that size at Wal-Mart and it's huge. And I know I don't have that much."
I know my alphabet and I know how far my letter is from the one she's implying. She gave me a card with my new size and the date (because you should get measured every six months... is this for real?).
I bought a bra on the size my specialist recommended. Hey, after all, dreaming is always good.