We live in a stressful world. I have a stressful job: it is heavy and it takes a toll. Nevertheless, I try hard not to bang on and on about how stressful my job is because it really doesn’t solve anything. If I had a dollar for every time someone told me how stressed out they are, I’d have retired to a tropical island by now. Four dollars for this paragraph alone.
I have been observing lately the things people do to manage their stress, and it makes for quite the interesting study. To give just one example, and because I can only really speak for myself, I sometimes find myself pretending I need something at Staples, just so I can wander aimlessly for a little while in the pen section. There is something very soothing about the pen section at Staples. For a start, there are pens of every style, color, and purpose. This is very pleasing to a writer. There are also copious quantities of stick-it notes. Stick-it notes are also soothing. Maybe they say To Do list, but there’s actually nothing on the list.
And there are random things in the pen section that catch my eye and make me wonder briefly whether I need them. I spotted a very attractive lockbox there the other day for $12.99. I caught myself thinking about possible reasons I could need a lockbox. Was there perhaps something I need to lock away from robbers? But they could just run off with my lockbox, so no to that. Maybe Jessie had something she would like to keep private from me? But she knows I never poke around her room. Plus she would just have to put something highly sensitive and private on her floor and it would almost immediately be covered in a thick layer of discarded clothing. I’m afraid to go in there, so no need for a lockbox for the daughter. Perhaps I had something I needed to lock away from her? At this point, I realized I had been staring at a thirteen dollar lockbox for quite some time, so I moved on to erasers and pencil sharpeners.
Staples also has quite a wonderful section containing notebooks, planners, and paper products of all kinds. Anyone who knows me well knows that paper stores make me weak at the knees. It is difficult for me to pass by a Papyrus. I sometimes have to cross the road. When I was in Florence, pretty much feeling that I was in a perpetual state of bliss anyway just because I was in Florence, I came across a store full of Florentine paper. Hand-made, one-of a kind leatherbound books of the stuff. I spent a very long time in that store. Mealtimes came and went. I took some photos, so I can still go back there in my memory if I want to. I do want to, sometimes, when things like rotten supreme court confirmations go down. I want to very much.
The cleaning fluids section of Staples can also be a little bit soothing in a general sort of way. All those sponges that have never yet had to sponge up anything disgusting. All the products purporting to bring Freshness and Sparkle to your drab life. The thing about managing your stress, though, is that it always seems to be lurking there in the background ready to creep up on you again. So the cleaning fluids section is a bit of a crap shoot: if my house is really dirty, it just makes me feel guilty and inadequate. I start suspecting I don’t know the right cleaning products to buy like everyone else does. I have to move rapidly on to envelopes then. It’s hard to go wrong with envelopes.
The most important thing to remember about Staples is that you should never ever approach the cash desk there. I did that the other day. I only had three items, they weren’t even heavy enough to require a basket, and they cost me $103.64. Printer ink. It’s a mistake to even have a printer because, as everyone now knows but is powerless to do anything about, printers cost about thirty bucks but keeping them in ink requires a second mortgage. I was also buying myself a wireless keyboard for my iPad. This was a big treat and I have waited two years to get one. Still, it contributed handsomely to the tab. The third item I can’t even remember. Maybe it was a lockbox? The point is, when the cashier said the total and I glanced stricken at her computer screen, sure she must have made some mistake, all the benefit that the pens and the cleaning fluids and the envelopes had provided was instantly wiped out. Paper, email, or both for your receipt? the cashier asked. Why do there have to be menu items for my receipt? Why do I have to choose between three things just to get a reminder that I spent a lot of money? I thought of asking her to mail it to me registered mail, but I was too busy trying to calculate how much I had spent on printer ink since buying my printer.
Out in my car, I sat in the sun for a bit listening to music. Music is cheap and almost never fails to reduce my stress levels. And sitting in my car is good because I love my car even though nothing says cleaning products like its interior. I think I am done with Staples. Next time I need a lockbox I’m just going to order one online.
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