That is IT.

I declare an official Penelo-Boycott of Target. Sayonara, bitches. And I mean it.

What happened was this: I just went to get a few things. And yeah, I had been there yesterday to get the previously plugged Arrested Development Season 2 for the shocking low price of $14.99. And some sunglasses for the baby. And some Mega M&M's, a product whose purchase, you may remember, had been thwarted last week by the Tyrant. But alas, I realized yesterday evening that a) my prescription was almost gone, b) the dishwasher was full but we had no dish detergent, and c) we were about to run out of foil. Somehow the foil seems just as pressing as everything else. So, called in the prescription this morning using Express Rx, and after (thankfully) being able to calm down the Kaleigh-bug and take a shower, headed over to my formerly favorite store.

I quickly filled the cart with the necessary items, including also 100-count Target brand trash bags, as well as a birthday present for Mom, then headed over to the Pharmacy. Which was... a little crowded. Really, there were only a few people in line, but whenever you've got a cart and have to stand in the line at the Pharmacy, it's a bit of a problem, because where do you stand. Pretty much you're always going to be in someone's way. But, what to do--need the prescription, otherwise, will have to go back. And, it's only a few people. Until I get there. Then everyone else and their jackass cousin who needs drugs too stand in line behind me. Except they're not really behind me, they're sort of off to the side, while I've tried to cram my cart, in an effort to be both strategic and polite, next to one of the endcaps. There's a lot of pharmacy employees behind the counter, including, I notice, the cross-eyed lady who usually works the regular checkout line. Which is...odd. Thought you had to have some sort of pharmacy schooling to work in the pharmacy, but maybe she does and what do I know. Anyway, Cross-Eyes seems to be attending to customers rather slowly and haphazardly, but she's got help, and since she works up front usually, let's cut her some slack, right? And it is crowded--I hate working customer service when it's crowded. Sucks for everyone involved. However--REGULAR RULES OF COURTESY AND CONDUCT SHOULD STILL APPLY. Meaning, people behind the counter, you can see who gets in line first--especially important when you work in an area where there's no space for a line and everyone kind of crowds around in a big mishmash. And, people waiting to be served, you, too, can see who got in line before you and after you. And everyone has to wait, it's not just you. But be honest, assholes. Don't cut. If you hear, "I'll take the next person in line," and you're not it, do not pretend that you are. Let whoever was in front of you go. And back to you, people behind the counter. After you say, "I'll take the next person in line," and someone who wasn't steps up, say so. If you really aren't aware that this person and the six after him are LYING, JERK-FACED LINE-BUDGERS, perhaps take note of the people off to the side who are shooting you appalled expressions of, hey wait--hey. I was here first. The people who are trying to push their way forward to the counter and claim their stake but can't because--oh that's right. They have a cart that they were trying to keep out of everyone's way.

It's a George Costanza moment: We are living in a society here...

Oh, but that's not all. People in said society are assholes and this is not news. But after finally getting waited on by (of course) Cross-Eyes, Pharmaceutical Employee Extraordinaire, she has to call me over to the side, away from everyone, because she can't understand my last name. Even after I spell it. Slowly. Loudly. And twice. As she's looking for my prescription, I load my items onto the counter because hell if I'm waiting in another line after this. Anyway, everyone else is doing it, so why not. Cross-Eyes turns around, my prescription in hand, and starts mumbling like Milton-who-lost-his-stapler, that um, the uh, items need to, uh, be on the other side of the, um, divide. That is, uh, where she, um, has to, uh, ring them up. Except that the other side of the divide is filled with items being purchased by one of the LYING, JERK-FACED LINE-BUDGERS. But she makes me move them anyway. And then rings me up, and my prescription keys in at a whopping $75. Three times the normal amount. Why? Oh yeah. Because my prescription, when written by the doctor, originally called for 3 months at a time. But I had forgotten about this because last time I dropped the thing off in person, and was able to specifically request 1/3 that amount. However, after waiting for 20+ minutes in a line of socially insensitive jerk-faces, and being lucky enough to draw Cross-Eyes in the retail pharm-rep lotto jackpot, could my blood pressure withstand explaining the complexities of the error? Not to mention waiting for at least another 20 while they corrected the error? And then there's the matter of the $75.

I perhaps should have prefaced this all by mentioning that the Penelo-Boycott's timing is really no coincidence. And I'm trying not to obsess about it, but we are currently experiencing some financial issues. Not uncommon with the arrival of sweet little Kaleigh-type monsters. And it's fine. We're shuffling, we're regrouping, we're figuring things out. Trying to avoid indulgences, wherever possible, such as the second season of a beloved television series on DVD. Unless, of course, it is $14.99. In which case, the purchase might be considered "frugal," and "smart," rather than "completely unnecessary." But, apparently, we are going to this year owe the federal government somewhere in the neighborhood of $3000. That's right. To everyone I haven't emailed or have otherwise neglected for the past few days, this is where I've been, mentally, physically: In Turbo-Tax Hell. And I used to be a big fan of Turbo Tax. The name alone--it's like, Go go Gadget Turbo Tax, right? Or something like that. Turbo Tax used to be my friend, and gave me not only simplicity and convenience in sorting out my funds each year, but also REFUNDS. Remember refunds? Ah, those were nice. Now, Turbo Tax is my mortal enemy, my number 1 shit-listed nemesis. And it's not even really Turbo Tax's fault. It's no one's fault, that's just the way things are. The way the cursed numbers add up. Time after time after time. But, have I mentioned that aside from taxes we're broke? I'm thinking extensions, I'm thinking 10-year payment plans with absolute minimums, I'm thinking...pay it all in one wad next year, when we actually get a return. Which we should, for the love of pete. Crimony. Stupid fucking government. More than happy to pay what we're supposed to, but when we're coming up short as it is?

BLAH.

So really--I am fully aware--Target is just the lucky recipient, the chosen scapegoat, for my Wrath at Everything Else. Better a retail store than a person, I suppose. I don't know how long the boycott will actually last. Probably not anywhere as long as my standing Wal-Mart boycott. I mean, $14.99 for a whole season of Bluth.

And again...whine whine whine. Life really is not so bad, and in many ways is in fact quite good. What's another $3000 of debt, in the grand scheme. Just money. It all works itself out in the end. The daffodils are blooming, the sun is out. And even though I checked the bottle when I got home and found only 30 TABLETS rather than the 90 I PAID FOR and had to call the pharmacy and speak to a person (thankfully not Cross-Eyes) who didn't really do anything, just promised to have Blake Barefoot, Head Pharmacist and All-Around Super-Nice Guy, call me in the morning... It will be fine. It will all be fine. Must. Breathe. Deeply.