Yankee Candle Whore

In addition to other addictions and compulsions, most of which are now under control (with the exception of food), I realized the other day that I'm now an official Yankee Candle whore. They're in every room of my home, bathrooms and basement included. The company keeps sending me email sales notices and specials, and coupons in the mail. Oy. They're like my crack pipe, and the CEO knows that his next cruise upgrade is riding on my next purchase.

Remember from a previous posting that I mentioned I had the "root canal from hell" before Christmas? Well, this past Monday, I got a letter in the mail from the Endodontist's office. I opened it to find, much to my joyful surprise, a rebate check!! Happy, happy, joy, joy. I had overpaid them and they sent me a check for $75. I happily put it on the end-table to my left and went about going through the rest of my mail.

Moments later I smelled smoke and jolted straight up - only to realize that I had just tossed my beloved check right on a "Macintosh Apple" Yankee candle; burned the damn thing right up. What to do........what to do........ Lie.

I called their office manager and fabricated this long, involved story about how I got their check but the envelope and check were mysteriously damaged in the rain and would they be so kind as to send me another one. Why did I lie you ask? Because I was too ashamed to admit that I was stupid enough to put a perfectly decent check ON TOP OF FIRE. Luckily, the office manager was a lovely lady and very courteous, and stated happily in her sing-song voice that she'd be happy to send me another check if I would just RETURN THE DAMAGED ONE. Oh, what a tangled web we weave.

Now I was forced to trot my happy fat ass in the kitchen and perform CIA-like maneuvers to said check to make it look like water damage as opposed to fire damage - simultaneously thinking to myself, "why on earth didn't you just tell her the damn truth, you idiot?"

Because like with all addictions and compulsions......I was ashamed. Ashamed to admit to this apparently chirpy sane woman that I've spent THOUSANDS of dollars on wax and have nothing to show for it, but a bunch of empty jars with spiffy names on them - Autumn Leaves, Midsummer's Night Dream, Christmas Cookie, and Home Sweet Home - just to name a few of my favorites.

And just tonight, my husband comes in from the other room asking, "How do I get wax off my arm and off the floor?" I said, "Why the hell is there wax on your arm and all over my kitchen floor?" He had innocently bumped into something in the kitchen, which then of course sent a candle flying.

And now my addiction has caused the blood-letting of my family, while I eagerly anticipate the arrival of my latest purchase "Patchouli."

There's a new one out as well, "Sweaty Man-Ass" - see picture.

Fatima........ashamed