Target

I have Target on the brain (more than usual) lately because there are rumors that we may be getting one in good old Grovetown! Don't you worry, I have two within about 8 miles of my house, but when it comes to Target, closer is better. I think Boone will have a tough time deciding if this is a blessing or a curse...

You see, since we are trying desperately to pay down our dental school debt, my trips to the spa have evaporated. Not that I used to go with any real regularity, but for awhile we just figured we were in it so deep that a massage or facial just really didn't make a difference. What's $75 when you owe $539,547? OK, we don't owe that much, but you get the idea. So now that we are actually making a little bit of progress in the debt department I have been really good about cutting the fat out of our budget -- including spa trips of any kind. This explains my hair, my heels, and my pores. But it's free to look like this!

Unfortunately, this timing has coincided with an increase in my stress level (2 boys under age 4) which means that at the time in my life where I probably need the pampering more than ever, I don't have the funds to do it. What's a girl to do? The solution is closer than you think...


I don't know what it is about this place, but Boone's theory is that they must be pumping pheromones or something through the ventilation system to calm women down. This explains why every Target smells exactly the same and every woman that I know loves to go.

Let me be really clear about something -- I like variety in most aspects of my life, but in the Target-aroma- department I love the sameness! When I move to a new place, the first thing I do is get to the closest Target ASAP so I can ground myself. And the minute I walk through those doors I am overwhelmed by eau de Target. I can feel my blood pressure drop, and the birds start singing (over at the mood music station by the cards), and suddenly I have this clarity where I "remember" all these things that I'm sure I need to buy. The blood pressure, the mood music, the clarity...it's just like getting a massage! So since I come back from Target all euphoric and nice, Boone sometimes sends me there after a really bad day to unwind. In "theory" it's a free spa.

Usually by the time I have been alone in the car for 20 minutes to get to the nearest Target, I have calmed myself sufficiently (or vented at stupid drivers enough) to cut down on the need for all things Target. I might pick up a fancy Vitamin water or some exotic flavor of gum , but we stay relatively on budget. However, if we really get our own store in my zip code, I think I may be joining the ranks of women who swear there is a $50 "cover charge" at Target (meaning they never leave without spending at least that much). And that, my friends, would be trouble. I'm sure I could invent all sorts of reasons to go to Target 3 or 4 times a week, and at $50 a pop, Boone may be longing for the days that a $75 massage was all it took to keep me sane!

On the other hand, after months and months of constant shopping, my house is bound to pick up the trademark Target smell, and then I could start charging my girlfriends $50 to come through my front door...