A big plank in my lose-100-pounds platform is dramatically reducing the frequency with which I eat lunch out. That means keeping healthy food at work, which means…trips to the grocery store.
Oh man, do I hate the grocery store. Lea does all of the grocery shopping for our family, and I thank her explicitly for it every time she returns. I’d rather experience any number of medical procedures that begin with the snap of a latex glove than go to the grocery store on a Saturday morning with a long list.
When I lived by myself, I used to go at 3:30 in the morning. ‘Course, at that hour, you’re fighting stockers and boxes, but I always found them far more predictable than other shoppers, and so my primary irritation was eliminated. Stockers are generally operating with purpose, and their next moves are easily anticipated. That’s the way I shop, hence my harmony with them.
Lea grabs stuff for my work lunches when we sync up and I can talk to her about it, but a lot of the time it’s up to me. If I can take somebody with me, it cuts the misery.
My former mentor, former “work wife,” and current close friend Melanie went with me today. We didn’t even have plans; I just rang her up and said, essentially, “hey, I have to go to Target and you have to go too so I don’t go nuts.” She kindly complied. She’s good like that.
Part of the enjoyment of having a bud along is that she is an audience for whatever commentary I have. (I’m desperate to make it fun, so I babble a lot about whatever comes to mind.) I think she was mostly amused, but maybe a little jarred too, at the weirdo I turn into when necessity dictates that I push a damned cart around gathering comestibles amongst people who block the whole damned aisle whilst they decide whether 17¢ is an acceptable premium for the brand of black-eyed peas they’ve heard of over the store brand, and people whose screaming urchins haven’t seen a bar of soap since the solstice, and a slaughtered Pretenders song on the Muzak, and where the hell are the Hunt’s snack packs, and please let my cashier have an IQ that more closely resembles a decent bowling score than room temperature (I did today), and oh yeah, and there was a lot of “back to school” crowd today, too.
I loooooooove grocery shopping. Melanie’s probably done with these excursions. Want to go with me next time?
Thanks to answers.com for the image.
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Or when people just leave their carts in the parking lot – up against someone else’s car – even thought the cart return is about 5 feet away? Come on people! – how lazy can you get?
Melanie – tell him you need to go to Wal-Mart next time… then you can watch the steam spurting from his ear while his head spins. His hatred of that place knows no bounds anymore.