Keep things where they need to be

First off, to avoid sounding like a typical entitled Gen-Z, I do my best to appreciate the things we often take for granted. Things that are often thought of as being regular to us, but a luxury in another person’s eyes. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned to appreciate the things that my parents often do in order to create a stable living environment for myself and for them. Plus, I try to give back as much as I can to show I’m not always a shit.

That being said.

It’s the little things they do that have a tendency to set me off. One of which is the organization of the house and the placement of certain objects. For example, I wanted to do a bit of cleaning in my room so my intention was to start with dusting. I found the handle of the yellow Swiffer, but for the life of me, I couldn’t find the duster part. After a painstaking 45 minutes of not being able to find the damn things, I call out to my father from up the stairs.

“Pop!”

“Yeah?”

“Where are all the dusters?”

“The what?”

“The dusters for the Swiffer”

“……..”

“The mustard?”

“*sigh*  for fucks sake”

Is there a communication barrier between the stairs and the bottom floor that I wasn’t aware of? I feel like it’d be easier to write in braille than it would to yell from the top of the stairs. Anyways, my mother chimes in with:

“They’re in the basement”

So the handle is upstairs in the laundry room and the duster is in the basement. Again, I never want to be the problem, but do I have to be a detective to figure out why the two pieces THAT GO TOGETHER are in opposite parts of the house??

Not satisfied? Well, don’t you worry, I got another one for you. This might range along the lines of being a tad juvenile but to each their own, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

When you’re doing your business on the toilet, the last thing you ever look at is whether or not there’s a roll to use at your leisure, and by the time you realize that you’re nearing the end of a roll, you’ve already laid an Oppenheimer-sized nuke to your toilet bowl. Normally, we store some rolls in the bathroom closet, but when that stash runs out, where are the rest? That’s right, right in the fucking basement, the lowest section of the house. Why? Only God has those answers.

I realize I’m coming off as being a tad ignorant. The average adult would look at my situation and find me in the wrong somehow. But it doesn’t just end there. This has become a global epidemic, spreading to every aspect of my life.

Today, which is November 24th as I write this post, I needed to buy new clips for the Christmas lights, (I know I just wrote a whole blog post on premature Christmas decorations, but if you had to deal with the wrath of an Italian mother, you’d get your ass up on a ladder as soon as possible to avoid it). My first stop was RONA.

I figured this would be an in-and-out job. I’d get the clips, because they shouldn’t be hard to find, and be on my merry way.

I was in this RONA for 38 minutes….

You take a Gen-Z out of their regular environment and shit is bound to hit the fan. I’m sorry, but was I supposed to bring a compass to this store? I felt like I needed a submarine radar just to get into the near vicinity of these damn clips. I found the Christmas lights easily, so LOGICALLY, wouldn’t you put the clips that hold the lights up in the same area?

After hyperventilating 3 times, going through the same sections 12 times, calling two help-hotlines (those being my parents), all while listening to the most ear-piercing cover of ‘Jingle Bells’ from the store’s audio system, I buckled and went to find an employee for help, which was it’s own set of problems. Is it just me or are there no employees in these kinds of stores. I felt like I was in the hotel from “The Shining” because I genuinely could not find a single worker and thought I was by myself as I slowly descended into madness. After what felt like a millennia, I found someone and asked him:

“Please man, where are these clips?”

“Oh, no problem”

The gentleman then proceeded to take me to the section away from all the lights and took me to the section with the inflatable snowmen and an animatronic Santa Claus statue where he showed me a wide array of clips they sold.

Do you see my point? Is it just me?

Here’s someone who understands my pain.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BaRtD9nM-vE

Jesus, 836 words this week, holy shit. Each week I write one of these posts I feel 10 pounds lighter. It’s cheaper than therapy I’ll tell you that.