Target Today I stopped at Target to pick up some Drano, but somewhere between facial cleansers and novelty candy, it seems that I lost my mind.  The eerie power of this classy superstore robbed me of all willpower and I had no desire to leave.  Ever.  I picked up my clog remover but still felt empty and without direction.  I remembered that I needed sponges, but that wasn’t enough.  I wanted to live there under the bright lights and amongst the attractive displays.  As I stared at 50% off children’s furniture, it occurred to me that my bladder was so full that I would undoubtedly pee my pants in the event of an impromptu 50-yard dash, but still I wandered the aisles.  I lost track of time during this hazy shopping trip, but I know that what should have been a 5 minute stop could have easily engulfed years of my life. The majority of my time was wandering from baby food through snacks and candy, past soda and sports drinks, and finally the meager selection of ‘real foods’.  I probably made about 8 laps, zig-zagging through the aisles, carefully considering each item as though playing a game of chess where cans of spaghettio’s were rooks and festive Easter candy mere pawns.  In the end, I realized that life is too short to wander the aisles of Target, searching for the holy-grail of pre-packaged food.  So about 20 minutes later I went to the checkout and emerged with Dran-o, sponges, a box of assorted herbal tea, and a 12-pack of Fresca.  I now see the appeal of Walmart – that being that I can only spend as much time inside as I can hold my breath.  Damn your class and hygiene, Target.