Humor

waking up

So I feel like FINALLY my new year has begun!  My weekend workshop was a success and I’m so happy to be done with the physical remodel.  I’m excited to post pictures here later this week.  And because it feels like a fresh start, I’m setting new priorities and goals.  I’m still navigating some changes to my weekly routine, but I’m looking forward to being in this space again.  Happy 2014…again!

funny-new-years-resolutions-card

HA!

to corporate america: stop stalking my uterus!

Some time ago when I was sick with pink eye, my dad inadvertently signed me up for a Target pharmacy rewards card while picking up my prescription.  (He is still denying this fact mind you.)  However, ever since said card has been ascribed to me, I have been inundated with baby business.  It started with a few issues of something called “American Baby” and then onto Target coupons for maternity clothes and baby-esque things. I finally wrote to American Baby and asked them to stop sending me their junk mail magazine (but I have still received more issues).  Then came an onslaught of “Babies-R-Us” fliers and coupons.  To the recycle bin it all went… until last week.  Much to my surprise, I found a sizable package addressed to me on the porch.  Having not ordered anything myself, I was giddy with joy thinking someone decided to surprise me!  Well, the pastel lavender package should have been an immediate dead giveaway.  One quick flip of the box and I knew this was no gift for me, it was rather, a gift to my Corporate American Consumer identity.

According to this super-scary article about the tracking habits of Corporate America (and specifically Target) I should be having a baby.  I mean, they now know my age (a shocking 34!), my meds that I take (for a wonky thyroid), and that on my last trip to Target my purchases included a frozen (albeit organic) pizza, bottle of wine, and cookie dough.  That doesn’t exactly scream new-mom-in-the-making material to me.  But apparently these purchases along with my age and income (which they know!) have sent out smoke signals that “IT’S TIME!”

Well I’ve got news for you Corporate America, if a dying old woman with ties directly to the center of my heart can’t convince me to have a baby — then neither can you, even with all your fancy marketing material.  Lord knows I’m a sucker for good packaging and the big red box store will continue to suck me in with its affordable, semi-trendy designer goods, and newly-expanded-grocery-section (hallelujah!), BUT you cannot trick me into having a baby — or even thinking that I want one.  If anything, you are just continually reminding me of exactly why we have chosen to not reproduce.

Look, it’s not you — it’s me.  So you can stop wasting all that paper and packaging.  It’s not going to happen — at least not because of you or on your time-table.  When and if the time does come for us to make that decision, we will not be consulting the aisles of Target, Babies R Us, or any other store that sells STUFF.  Oh, and you might want to tell the tracking people that they missed they mark because pre-baby stuff has given way to post-baby stuff — starting with the TWO FREE jars of formula that were sitting on my porch last week.  (Well, maybe it was the wine that gave it away after all. I guess I will be getting a breast pump coupon next!)