I had a wine-fueled Amazon session and decided I had to do something about all the makeup I’ve been buying and keeping in a big bin of: “I don’t know what’s in here!” and “Where is that thing!” I saw a picture of a woman’s setup and it was enough for me to click click click and now I have this gorgeousness on my bathroom counter. I’m not sure what to do with the brushes, but for now, this is a better solution than the mess that took its place. There’s a drawer for all the perfume samples, another drawer for the seventeen tweezers, skin stuff, eye stuff, lip stuff–a place for all my stuff!
I know my mom would be especially happy to see some semblance of organization. Growing up, I had so many books and papers on my bed and my mom’s solution was sweeping everything off and putting it in a laundry basket. Sometimes I forgot that she was the one who cleaned up my high school hovel RL Stine book sanctuary so one time I brought home a very vividly illustrated copy of karma sutra and somehow that book went missing and was replaced with pamphlets titled, “Catholic Prayers in Time of Distress.”
Anyway! Here are some other sweet things that are filling up the drawers:
When I bought the primer, the store employee was having trouble scanning the item. She was using a handheld scanner which wasn’t picking it up. She was apologizing for the wait then she called for another employee to come help her. Then I witnessed the most polite employee fight ever. “I told you! It’s not picking up JANE!”
“Well you’re not scanning it right, MARY!”
And there I am, just wanting to keep my eyeshadow from messing up and wishing I had popcorn to watch this fight unfold. There was a lot of frustration and scanner beeps and finally it went through and ended very civil and not at all the catfight that would have made this wait worth it.
“Thank you JANE! I appreciate YOU!”
“You’re welcome MARY!”
I’m sure when they go into the break room, they wait until the other has turned around so they can whisper under the hot breath of working all day fetching makeup for dumb moms like me: “I hate you.” It feels good to release a little bit, to send the bloat into the air without any recourse. Or maybe the words never leave their mouths, the thought of each other festering and failing through life is enough to fuel them through this break until they have to enter the floor again and the scanner beeps and Top 40 overhead music grows louder and louder until they can’t think of anything else.