Some First-World Problems

Since I can't drive don't have a car, lugging large items around is sort of a pain in the butt.  Take, for example, my recent purchase of an 18''x24'' picture frame that turned out to be too small for the poster I intended to frame.  Okay, so the damn thing sat in my apartment for two weeks before I finally carried it all the way to the store to exchange it.  The frustrating aspect of all of this isn't so much that I don't have a car and that things like exchanging/buying/transporting large things take weeks to "process"; rather, it's the associated woes of the picture/poster frame acquisition in general.  Also tissues.  Tissues are related to this, I promise.

I actually bought 2 picture frames originally.  One didn't fit (damn it) and the other, despite being the proper size for another poster, ended up having a crack in one of its corners (double damn it).  Every time I look at that damn poster frame, I don't think "wow, I finally hung a poster on my bare wall!"  I think instead, "there's that damn cracked poster frame that was so not worth the money I spent on it, but that I kept anyway because exchanging it for a non-cracked one would require too much derping around with transportation."

I walked down to Michael's to exchange the wrong-sized one yesterday.  Despite such a simple task taking so long, the walk was nice and, in a way, de-stressing.  I set the new frame against the wall in my hallway and went on with the rest of my night (which consisted of shoving food in my mouth and half-watching terrible movies on Netflix).  This morning, I'm going about the business of trying to save my electric toothbrush from the mayhem caused by keeping an old toothbrush head on there for too long brushing my teeth, when suddenly I hear a *SCRATCH SCRATCH* noise.  I turn around and there's Whiney; using the frame in the hallway like a scratching post.

Triple damn it.

Her claws obviously ripped through the protective plastic covering and there are now two long scratch marks on the frame's plastic piece (yes, I am cheap and get the plastic ones instead of the glass ones).  So now, I can't quite return the damn thing without it being a transportation hassle (or without being a giant dick because it was my cat that ruined the thing rather than it being damaged from the get-go).  I just can't wait (insert sarcasm) to frame my poster and hang it on the wall.  My favorite part will be the scratch marks that glint in the light of my livingroom.