"I want my Wal-Mart back"
Change -- sometimes it's good, sometimes bad.
All people cope with change in varying ways. Some of us see change as hopeful and refreshing and welcome it with open arms; others shudder with fear at the thought of something new.
I like to think of myself as a person who is pretty flexible when it comes to dealing with change.
For instance -- cars. When it comes to cars, I've had no choice but to be accepting of change.
You see, I'm a notoriously bad driver. My lack of driving skill combined with my inherent bad luck and uncanny ability to make deer want to dive head-first into moving vehicles has allowed me the opportunity to hone my adaptability.
I've gone through more cars than I care to admit; however, because of an open-minded attitude toward change, I've remained unphased by my ever-alternating mode of transportation.
And then there's my hair. Here is an undeniable example of my openness to new things.
Throughout the past few years I've began experimenting with extensions. My hair has been every length from just above my shoulders to grazing the top of my waist.
And I'm definitely not afraid to play with color; in fact, the shade of my hair tends to change with my mood.
I've been every shade of blond from dirty dishwater to the fakest Playboy platinum shade possible. I've had deep red streaks, cinnamon streaks, dark chestnut streaks and a combination of all three with some heavy bleach thrown in.
And just recently I rid myself of all blond. Currently the bulk of my hair is a very deep shade of auburn called manzanita, with some random flashes of a burgundy shade called lava, that's topped with a few faint strips of a strawberry blond color called rocket.
Really -- I couldn't make these names up if I tried.
It was somewhat of a shock at first. However, my hair dresser said it made me look "hot"; I've chosen to believe him.
I'll admit, I'm still adjusting, and in all honesty I probably won't keep it this way for more than a month or two. But you know what -- it's a nice change.
Now that I've made very clear how cool I am with change, allow me to vent: one thing I'm having major trouble adjusting to is the changes that our Ash Flat Wal-Mart Supercenter is undergoing.
I have wasted a number of precious hours of my life in that store, and now I don't even recognize it.
First off, the outside has been painted brown ... why?
Then, if you walk in through the left entrance, the first thing you see are dishes. Being the avid Wal-Mart shopper that I am, this seems just so unnatural.
The pharmacy has been moved. It's now located in the middle of the store in a structure that appears to have been built from left-over cardboard boxes. And what's better, it's surrounded by birthday supplies. Dora the Explorer, SpongeBob and Barbie monitor the pharmacy goings on from various coordinating napkins and paper plates.
The other day I watched as one little boy sprinted to what was once the toy section. My heart ached for the bewildered child as he searched for the hot wheels among paint swatches. I could identify -- I had spent the last hour roaming the aisles in search of paper towels.
And the memory of what was once the craft and fabric section is haphazardly thrown among a set of randomly placed aisles marked as clearance.
I know these changes are supposed to make a new and improved shopping experience. However, I pretty much know every square inch of every Wal-Mart in northeast Arkansas; and sadly, I feel lost in my hometown store.
But don't worry, just before you lose all hope in the new setup, let me restore some faith. The grocery section is relatively unchanged.
And it's a good thing, because God forbid I have trouble finding the food.