I have an illness. It’s some mysterious disease that has plagued me as long as I can remember. The symptoms include the following (in this order):

Excitedness
Intense thinking
Driven searching
Becoming overwhelmed
Aimless wandering
Fatigue
Freezing up
Desperation
Hopelessness
Utter despair
Angst
Regret

This whole process takes place in under two hours. Sounds pretty bad, huh? Well, it is. I don’t know what the scientific term for this is but the lay person may call it something as simple as “BUYING A GIFT.”

I have had a major case of this my entire life. A few examples:

I was six and for her birthday, everyone gave my best friend Barbies. I gave her Barbie lipstick…that is, lipstick for Barbie. Not only a weak gift, but it didn’t even work when we tried it in front of everyone.

I was nine and was invited to a birthday party for the daughter of one of my dad’s friends. I didn’t even know her but had $5.00 to spend on her gift. I searched the three toy aisles at Fred Meyer for an hour trying to find something great. I ended up buying plastic glow-in-the-dark bracelets. The party was a huge social event with dinner and clowns and all her other gifts included fancy clothes and a doll house.

While Rob and I were dating, I went to Sea World with my family. I wanted to bring him home a souvenir, but nothing significant because, at the time, we weren’t on the best of terms. In fact, I thought that me going away for a week would either make or break us. Anyway, I walked around the gift shop for 45 minutes trying to find something and ended up getting some play goo stuff with an orca whale embedded in it. I just thought boys like weird, gross stuff. When i gave it to him he said, “Slime? You got me slime? Is this supposed to tell me something? Do I deserve slime? Do you think I’M slime?”

I always have the best intentions. I really care about the people I buy gifts for and want the present to be personal and something they’d enjoy. After going through all of this, as I’m leaving the store after purchasing the gift, I regret what I chose 95% of the time.

I know gift cards seem like a cure to my illness, but those just aren’t fun to buy. I know, I know, what I go through isn’t fun, either. In fact, it’s miserable. But I always go into it thinking it will be.

AAARRRGGGHHHH!!!!!