A few weeks ago, if you had asked me if I wanted a Kindle, I would have said, “Eh.”  The idea didn’t really appeal to me.  Over the past few weeks, I have gone from “Eh” to thinking about getting one to seriously thinking about getting one to actually wanting one, and in the last 18 hours I have become convinced that getting a Kindle is the only way I’m going to be happy.  Somewhere in my brain I know that this is an illusion, and yet all the rest of me wants very much to embrace this illusion.  And embrace a Kindle, because Kindles are cool.

I know, people love their Nooks, and I considered getting a Nook–I seriously considered it, during that “seriously considering” phase–but in the process of doing all that research (Kindle vs. Nook…Kindle vs. Nook…Kindle vs. Nook), I came to realize that as hard as I tried to convince myself to buy a Nook, my heart would not be moved.  That was when I knew I needed a Kindle.  And I still need a Kindle because I do not have one yet.  Don’t try to sway me in another direction at this point!  I have already made up my mind.  A Kindle is what I want for my birthday, and if I don’t get one for my birthday–which is the likely scenario, given that my husband is thusfar unaware of my real need for a Kindle because I have kept it secret until now, and my birthday is on Tuesday–then I will buy myself one for my birthday.  Because I deserve to be happy.  That’s what I’ve decided.

I got a card from my dad and his wife today, and inside the card was a check for enough money to buy myself a Kindle.  COINCIDENCE?  Sure, the money is supposed to be for my birthday and our anniversary (which is five days later), but doesn’t my husband want me to be happy?  Doesn’t he?  Where is the flaw in my logic?  Please, someone tell me.

All of this is because I am currently unhappy, and my husband asked me the other day–or maybe yesterday–what I wanted the kids to get me for my birthday–and at that point I didn’t know about needing the Kindle, but even if I had, it wouldn’t have mattered because it’s not like my kids can get me a Kindle–so I said, “Eh.”  Because aside from a Kindle, I really can’t think of any material possession that I want.  It’s like Christmas all over again.  I told him they could buy me some Cheetos.  Cheetos and Reese’s peanut butter cups.  And socks.  I like socks.  My husband said they aren’t selling any good socks these days, and I guess it’s just as well because we are moving into non-sock weather.  Or rather, we are moving into the summer months, when we go on vacation to places with non-sock weather.  So I guess it’s just Cheetos and Reese’s peanut butter cups for me.  The only problem is that the kids will probably expect me to share.

Five minutes ago there were no ants crawling on my wall.  Now there are dozens of ants crawling on my wall.  That is another thing I’d like for my birthday:  to have the ants exterminated once and for all.  I hate ants.  I hate them.  If only there were a way to distract me from said ants–say, if I had a Kindle.

I vividly recall asking my mother what she wanted for her birthday or for Mother’s Day, and she always answered, “A clean house.”  And I always answered (in my mind, not out loud, because that would have been cruel), “Yeah, right.  Like that’s going to happen.”  Because I wasn’t any better at cleaning house then than I am now.  I might even try to argue that I was worse at it.  Fortunately, my mother knew that I loved her, even though I couldn’t give her what she wanted most in life.  Or did she?  Did I?  Did I really love her, if I wasn’t willing to figure out how to clean her house for her?  Do you see why I need a Kindle now?  It’s to distract me from my shame over never having loved my mother enough.

Do you know what next Tuesday is, besides my birthday?  It’s the day before the housekeepers come.  It is the day of my next scheduled existential crisis.  My husband has already decided we should celebrate my birthday on Monday instead of Tuesday because Tuesday night is Cub Scouts and Princess Zurg has a youth temple trip, and so Tuesday is just a really inconvenient day.  I can’t argue with him.  It’s fine if we celebrate my birthday on Monday, but I’m just saying, not only will my real birthday be mostly-devoid of celebration, but I will also be spending it tidying the house and having an existential crisis.  Instead of processed food and a Kindle, I am tempted to ask for them to tidy the house for me–except that a) that’s never going to happen, and b) even if it were going to happen, Tuesday is a really inconvenient day.

I should probably Raid those ants.

Yesterday I went to the orthodontist, and now I am wearing the rubber bands.  They connect from my first molars on top to my lateral incisors (or thereabouts) on the bottom.  It’s not comfortable.  Nor is it convenient, particularly.  I was changing them this morning and discovered that it is only slightly more practical to apply these rubber bands to the correct locations than it is to floss my back teeth.  Flossing my back teeth while I am wearing wires is impossible.  (Yesterday when they changed my wires, they let me floss my teeth before putting the new wires on.  What a treat that was.)  Applying these rubber bands is only nearly impossible.  I have these handy hooks to loop them around, but I’m not sure what the use of them is when the rubber bands get caught on everything but the hooks.  The first one got so tangled up in the wrong place that I had to get a pair of scissors and cut it out of my mouth.  At this rate I will certainly be running out of rubber bands sooner than expected.  Anyway.  I eventually did it correctly, but heavens–just when I thought eating couldn’t get any less pleasurable (short of having my jaw wired shut and having to eat everything through a straw), here come the rubber bands.  (Can I eat Cheetos this way?  It remains to be seen, but I’d really like to try.  Hopefully my teeth won’t be as sore come Tuesday.)

On the plus side, when I turn 42, my teeth are going to look AWESOME.  AWESOME, I tell you.  And I should have a Kindle by then, too, so…there you go.

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