I have no resolutions/for self-assigned penance/for problems with easy solutions

Just a little while ago, I was standing in the boys’ department of Target, making mind-boggling decisions regarding whether to buy boys size-small t-shirts in packs of three or five – for myself, of course, since little boys size-small t-shirts fit me very nicely, I’ve recently realized. Actually, I’ve decided to take over the whole boys department, and the mens for that matter, too, because my dad owns the thickest, comfiest, warmest pair of socks I’ve ever worn in my entire life. So I’m all set: boys t-shirts + mens socks = very warm Yasmine. I’m still a strong proponent of toe socks though, don’t worry.

I love Target, I really do. But every time I go there, I run into people I’d rather not. For example, today, while checking out the rack of t-shirts, a young woman of Indian ethnicity approached me, bearing a clipboard and pen.

“Would you like to sign up for a Target card?” she asked. “You get 10% savings on all purchases.”
“No, thanks,” I said politely. “I already have one of those, and I never even use it.”
She looked at me curiously. “Where are you from?”
I mentally rolled my eyes. “Do you mean my ethnicity, or nationality?”
I grinned. “I’m American.”
“Oh,” she replied, flustered. “Ethnicity, then.”
She squinted. “You look sort of familiar—”
“—Yes, I know,” I cut in impatiently. “It’s because you asked me the exact same questions the last time, too.” Her eyes widened, and she immediately turned and scuttled away without another word, while I stood there wondering whether to laugh out loud or be horrified at my rudeness.

Okay, so I admit it, I’m such a mean and difficult person to deal with. And the fact that I know it and still carry on with my deliberate obnoxiousness probably makes it even worse a thing. But I’ve never been particularly successful at making or fulfilling New Years’ resolutions, so who cares. The fact is, I just hate being pigeonholed, and it seems to happen wherever I go. So there’s my justification.

I bought my sister a pack of Truffles from Target though. And she loves me now. So maybe I turned out okay after all. Sort of.

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