The headache is back.
It’s resumed it’s roll of torment right behind my left eye.   The shoulder is tightening up.   Feeling a little nauseous too.  Not sure what’s wrong.

I haven’t checked the weather outlook lately, but maybe there’s another Barry brewing somewhere.      This sucks.

It’s kind of like being sick and being sick.   It’s not enough to call off work, but just enough to make sure the day is going to be miserable.   Well, that’s me today.  Awesome.  If I come across a bit disjointed, I apologize.

I like to watch people and their interactions with others.  It really helps in understanding people and learning their psychology.   It also makes great fodder for books and stories.  But, I — watch. —   I don’t like to be the player on stage.   A couple of days ago, I felt that I was.

I was at Countryside Maul.  Since Jason wasn’t with me, I was walking into stores that he wouldn’t and generally my alone time.  I was looking for a couple of specific things – namely a night face moisturizer since I ran out of what was in the shiny Clinique tub.  … which I still haven’t replaced yet.

Anyway, I went into Dillards and was approached by Fran.   I think she was pushing Estee Lauders and recommended some sort of thing.   It was new and smelled nice, but was nine dollars over what I paid for the Clinique stuff.

—  You got to keep in mind here that one of my hard mental blocks is buying things for myself.   It’s a moral and ethical dilemma that usually results in defeat and a lot of internal arguing.  Buying a $45 tub of anything was a stretch for me, let alone paying $54 for something.

I guess Fran picked up on my mental struggle and offered a bigger tub of the stuff.    It was $109 dollars, but like two and a half times of what was in the little tub.

That resonated with me.   Double the price, but there’s a savings.    Still, I still couldn’t to it.   Which caused a decent amount of self-anger, but whatever.

Dillard’s Fran was nice and accommodating.
The woman was just trying to do her job.

–   Went into Macy’s.
I stood in the middle of the cosmetic center and walked past all of the vendors —  I wanted to make sure I did that — and was completely ignored.  I thought it was funny.   When I don’t want to buy anything, I’m surrounded by pushy saleswomen.    When I want to buy something, no one is around.

I must have triggered the radar of associate Anne.     Anne was older than Fran, shorter, and had really fuzzy short gray hair.  But, unlike Fran, Anne didn’t work in cosmetics.   She was just a regular sales associate.

The “May I help you?” was still, formal, and I couldn’t help but notice that her eyes kept darting to the bag I carried.

The bag wasn’t spectacular, but it was purple and had a big glowing shooting yellow star on it.    In the corner, the Publix logo was ingrained.   Publix handed them out for Halloween many years ago.   Far cry from a Jimmy Choo, but it served the same purpose.

In crystal clarity, Anne thought I was shoplifting.  She probably thought I was taking the samples and stuffing them in the Publix bag.  Too cute.

I must have been a sight.   Shorts.  Plain purple sleeveless shirt.  Running shoes.   Ancient purple bag.

Dillard’s Fran didn’t care what I looked like.  She was just trying to do her job and make a sale.

Macy’s completely ignored me, save Anne, who probably wanted to call security.   Maybe one of the cosmetic saleswomen put her up to it.

I don’t know.   It was just weird funny.