Dirk's Diggler was big

I would like to expose to you the depths of my insanity. Brace yourself.

I have PMS (see prior post title in which I try to be humorous about my feelings of violent rage). I should not be allowed to mix with other humans in my current state. I was initially going to see Michael tonight, but I reneged and said I was feeling pissy and he emailed me back something like "that'sokaysomeothertimenoneedtoexplainiloveyoupleasedon'thurtme".

On the seabus, while reading Gwynn Dyer's "War" and trying not to turn around and thump the belligerent highschool twats behind me I decided I would just take it easy tonight. Relax. Eat well. Watch the rest of my movie. I decided to pick up some sake because I like it.

Having purchased the sake I thought it would be a no brainer to find a sake set in the fifteen goddamn blocks from the seabus and my apartment. I went to the Sally Ann and two dollar stores. No can do.

Now, prior to this, I decided that I would get some sushi from my favourite sushi joint. It's so favourite, that when I was hankering for sushi one Sunday and learned that they aren't open on Sundays I opted out of the sushi entirely because, so far, nothing else comes close to their spicy tuna rolls.

Do you see the dilemma that's arising (in my mind, because of my insanity)? I am having sushi and sake goes well with that but I have no sake set.

I came home, kicked the proverbial dog, roughed up some of my elderly neighbours in the elevator and decided it was in the best interest of humanity to go to the gym. For thirty two minutes as I did lunges and the leg press and crunches and the lat pull down I tried to work out the sake set problem. Where else could I go to get this? Could I just drink my sake out of a juice cup? If I offered to pay the sushi restaurant a deposit, would they lend me a sake cup? Should I admit to this level of obsessiveness on my blog? Why are aesthetics so important to me sometimes? Is there one other person on the face of this planet trying to source out a sake set on a Friday night? Why have there been so many closed door meetings at work lately? Does anyone else think Angelina Jolie is a terrifying hosebag?

I decided that I would drive to a nearby mall because surely Sears would have a sake set (after looking online to see if London Drugs had one - they do not, but they have a drinking game called "Shots and Ladders" or something equally toxic). Yes. Back into my civvies, into the car, into the night and the driving rain and the wind in search of a sake set. No to Sears. No to the gargantuan dollar store there. No, no, no. Lots of weird people shop in dollar stores on Friday nights in North Van, lemme tell ya. So I crossed over. Oh my god, I'm so embarrassed.

I went to Walmart.

I fucking hate Walmart. I worked for Maersk for four years and Walmart was our biggest customer. You know why Walmart's prices are so cheap? Because Walmart violates their employees' rights (http://www.wakeupwalmart.com/facts/). Because they are so big that they are able to dictate to their supply chain how much they are going to pay them to ship and transload and linehaul their cheap shit to various centres and those suppliers have to find ways to make a profit out of it, as they find that upwards of 80% of their business is from Walmart and if they decide to go elsewhere... Which results in people like me busting their ass for a ridiculous salary because Walmart sets the prices due to its massive purchasing power and volume. Yep. I was an accounting supervisor at Maersk with my own office and a staff of five and I made twelve thousand dollars less per year than what I make now (and I work a 35 hour week) as a regular, run of the mill accountant. They massacre the competition because no one else can come close to their purchasing power.

Anyways. They had the sake set. I had to shake a perplexed sales associate by the lapels to get it out of her. Where... is... your porcelain... Japanese... dishware... I shouldn't have bought it. It was seven dollars. So effing cheap. I'm a whore and a sell out. I'm sorry. I haven't bought anything in Walmart in probably 5+ years. And, like Lebowski's rug (100,000 points to anyone that gets that), it really brought the (room) dinner together.

Damnit.

Michael, bless his terrified soul, called to see how I was doing. We had a very nice chat, but then I had to admit my nefarious purchase.

He advised me to shower. To shower and scrub and scrub until I am clean again.