Tell it to fuck off with a colored pencil.
Sunday, Harrison and I decided to go out to a movie. Before the movie, we wandered around the Barnes & Noble next to the movie theater. Rather than finding a real book to read, I purchased an adult coloring book, complete with a foreword from a Psychologist and Art Therapist about how we all have awful and stressful lives, and sometimes we just need to chill the fuck out. So I think I’m just going to call this book my “Chill the Fuck Out Book.” I’ve been having some pretty real anxiety and trouble sleeping lately, which I am blaming on my birth control because hormones are created by the devil, and if they don’t severely alter your personality, they’ll give you acne like a 14-year old and an extra 20 pounds.
I digress. For real, this sounded like a really enjoyable thing to try.
Despite having several coloring book options for the grown-up and stressed out, Barnes & Noble did not have anything to color with. What the hell, B&N? After the movie, we walked down the street to the Walgreens, but they only had a 12 pack. What the hell, Walgreens? This was clearly not sufficient. What the hell am I going to do with only 12 colors??? This might be for relaxation, but I still want it to look cool. When we got home, I got in the car and drove 3.1 miles to Target to buy colored pencils because I was taking this chilling the fuck out stuff very seriously. I found a pack of 36 in the Art & Crafts aisle, and I was on my way.
It was Sunday (see this post about how I can’t sleep on Sundays), so this is obviously the perfect night to try this out. I started coloring a picture of coffee beans that seemed to be laying on a countertop with some sort of tribal design. I have no idea. Harrison was sitting next to me, and after I had filled in a few coffee beans with a color labeled “sludge.” I looked up and expressed my displeasure with the colored pencils I bought. Basically, they weren’t the good Crayola kind, and they used words like “sludge” instead of fucking BROWN to describe colors. He laughed at me, picked up his laptop, and ordered me a pack of 50 colored pencils from Amazon. The good kind.
And that, my friends, is love. If any significant other you have does not indulge your such ridiculous needs as better colored pencils for your coloring book, I feel sorry for you. He also threw in a real book as a surprise, so I can really crush this chilling the fuck out thing.