In-Convenience Stores

What is it about accidental naps that are so very discombobulating?

The husband got a wee-bit zealous chopping bell peppers at lunch last week with our $10 knife from PowerMart. We had two bandaids that were so old the sterile wrapping floated off because the adhesive had faded. He tied a sock around his finger while I finished lunch. Teamwork! Resourcefulness.

When he left for work (Nate works from 3-10pm. Hooray never eating dinner together?) I had a long mental list of things I needed to do. I thought about them as I was reading blogs on my laptop getting increasingly drowsy. ‘You’ve got to run,’ I muttered to myself.

Ha, said myself. Silently.

Three hours later, I woke up.

Stressful naps shouldn’t be a thing, you guys. It’s such a sucker punch. It’s like…when you bite into a peach and it’s secretly rotten. RUDE. just RUDE.

Anyway, that was last week and by now that bell-pepper cut has mostly healed, WITHOUT stitches. (he was unsure for the first couple days, whereas my reaction was ‘RUB SOME DIRT IN IT’ #Proverbs31woman) and today I heroically resisted the sneak-attack afternoon nap.

Our neighborhood is a recently-developed labyrinth of 4-and-5-floor apartment buildings, all named things like ‘Aceville’ and ‘Sapphire’ and ‘Trump House’ and ‘Starbucks’ which latter items should indicate the state of Korean copyright law.  On every corner is either a phone shop, a meat restaurant, a real estate office, or the main event: a convenience store.

I can walk to my corner, look left, and see three convenience stores, on that street alone.

On the one hand it’s pretty great, in our still developing area, to be able to walk about 150 steps to get snacks, flour, milk, coffee, a razor, bandaids, yada yada yada.

On the other hand, as card-carrying Former Fat Kids, Nate and I have a shared instinctual and deeply problematic draw to these establishments. For the candy aisle, which carries my favorite Korean candy bar, whose incomprehensible English name is Freedom Time? and for the ice-cream freezers, where every one of my popsicle-obsessed childhood dreams can come true on a daily basis for the low low price of 60 cents (SIXTY. CENTS.) with…

The Jaws Bar.

via

It seems fitting that here, properly into Fall, is my ode to the Jaws bar. that’s the name, in Korean, on the wrapper: jyo-seu. Jaws. Because it’s gray and shaped like a sharks head and the outside tastes like orange and the middle is soft strawberry. It’s cool and fruity and did I mention SIXTY CENTS, and mama loves a bargain, and mama also loves processed sugars. #deliverus

And Nate has so much more strength of will than I do on this, which is wonderful, unless I were to go out when he’s not here and accidentally on purpose get a snack and then make sure I leave the wrapper in the garbage cans outside so that I’m not caught in my iniquity. not that that has ever happened all the time before. I mean.

What I’m saying in this post can be summed up thus:

  1. Maybe invest in knives that work
  2. People almost never need stitches
  3. I should reintroduce coffee into my lunchtime routine
  4. please someone help me I have to go to the grocery store now and I have no self control

 Ps. We had us some real good times this weekend! I’ll post about it soon. unless I die of Jaws-bar surfeit before then.