I know that the bulk of my blog readers are either seeing the crazy train pull in or have already boarded so I won't regale you with all the joys that seem to accompany those of us racing toward the half century mark. I am sure we are all enjoying the same adventure of new moods, aches, pains and a strange person that looks back at us when we pass mirrors. Since this mood may not last I wanted to get a post up and get back to some pre spring cleaning projects I have started and need to finish before BDJ arrives home on Friday.
I wanted to share a funny (I choose to call it funny and not think of it as a completely sad precursor to the complete mind loss that may be coming in the not so distant future for me) that happened to me last week. Before I can tell you the funny you have to know a little history.
Last Friday I jumped out of bed, grabbed my most comfy jeans and the sweatshirt on the top of the stack, and headed out to spend the day helping The Nana recover some furniture. The whole day as we crawled around in the floor tugging, pulling, and stapling, I was dreading what would come later.....the dreaded weekly grocery shopping. I used to love grocery day. I would be excited to clean out the fridge, prepare my menu and head off to get ingredients to try new and exotic dishes in the upcoming week. That was then and this is now, that excitement has long since gone.
It isn't really the grocery shopping that I hate, it is the where I grocery shop. Let me rephrase: I don't hate, hate, hate the place, I loathe it. When BDJ was home, I always shopped at The Place That Shall Not be Named (ya'll all know this mega hell of which I speak). I had no choice since, despite the fact that BDJ inherited my legs (which btw seem to be perfect for award winning weightlifting and football, thank you very much), he was constantly working to add weight or keep weight on. I know it is so hard to understand how he got so many of my body traits and struggles with adding/keeping weight. I was always urging him to just stand beside the fridge because the weight seemed to jump on me in that area but, alas, it just didn't work for him. So keeping him at playing weight required tons of food. Since he preferred to eat several small animals a day, we could only afford to purchase suitable quantities at said The Place That Shall Not be Named.
I know I cannot be the only one that hates this place. The kids used to joke about how grumpy I became when we were within sight of it. My blood pressure goes through the roof and my level of patience drops through the floor. Mini says I act crazy, almost possessed while I am there. I can't say because I seem to go into another dimension and don't always have recall of it. I don't shop here, I just try to survive it. Once I step out of the car I don't want to talk to anyone. I am singularly focused on making it out alive and without a felony charge. My grocery list is made to match the store layout to eliminate even 1 additional minute there. I generally jog through literally tossing items in the buggy. I prefer to have Mini with me that way she can push the buggy and I can run and toss without slowing up.
After BDJ left for college, Wonder Hubby (drunk with euphoria of a lower grocery bill) urged me to shop Publix (did you hear the angels sing? I always do when I say Publix and there is a whole angel choir when I shop there). I did this for a while, but, sadly with the economy, the savings from BDJ eating on the meal plan at school were quickly trumped by rising grocery prices, so this pleasure was short lived and I was back at The Place That Shall Not be Named.
I really try to psych myself up for the day and tell myself that I am being tested. I work hard to plaster a smile on and have recently discovered humming helps keep from yelling at people as well as drowns out screaming kids. So Friday when I turned in on two wheels into the lot (at prime just after school time), lept from the car, and sprinted inside, I was ready to make this a positive experience.
I was surprised that, although it was prime shopping time and the parking lot was full, there didn't seem to be a lot of people inside (or they all had finally figured out how to treat an aisle like a road and drive on one side or the other instead of parking in the middle). I had my face locked on smile and was knocking out my shopping very quickly. I was a couple of aisles into the grocery side of the store when I noticed a man (okay truthfully I immediately pegged him creepy guy) looking at me. At first I thought he might think he knew me and was kind of weird grinning while maybe trying to decide if he did or not, but after meeting him aisle after aisle I decided he was just creepy.
know I had a "open" demeanor going on. Finally I am within two aisle of being free when creepy guy rounds the corner, smiles weirdly and says "you not a people person, huh?" I was completely stunned and briefly speechless (those of you that know me personally know that I am never speechless). Could it be that I looked hateful and unfriendly? How could that be? I had worked so hard to at the very least appear happy and friendly. After a minute or two I recovered my ability to speak and
I finished my shopping (all the while frustrated and disappointed in myself for trying to be positive and obviously failing epically) and headed to the check out. While standing in line, I see creepy guy approaching (for some crazy reason I now felt an overwhelming need for creepy guy to like me or at the very least think I'm a nice person), so I plaster on a smile only to have him pull into the check out next to mine and turn his back! I check out and roll out to the car to load up, all the while swaying between being mad/frustrated with myself and mad at creepy guy. I load up the car, return the buggy to the buggy return and get into the car. When I look down to buckle up I see this.
Opps! Then I get it...I feel like a real idiot. Remember I told you I grabbed the sweatshirt on the top of the stack? Well this was it. Wonder Hubby bought this for me a few years back when the crazy train began approaching the station. I was in such a hurry when I dressed that I truly didn't think of what I was putting on past thinking of comfort. By the time I made it to The Place That Shall Not be Name, I had completely forgotten I had it on. The funny thing about this shirt is that although I would wear it initially when I was feeling particularly crabby, I have learned that it is a real people magnet. People read it and immediately exclaim "oh I love you shirt" and then want to chat, go figure. So creepy guy had probably been trying to read it the whole time and would grin when I caught him looking. I guess after I had seen him looking aisle after aisle he felt the need to say something in explanation (so I didn't think he was creepy guy I guess. Dude, that ship had sailed) but he never said anything about or pointed to the shirt. After I bit his head off, I guess he wasn't feeling to skippy to chat at the check out.
So I was being tested....tested not to judge a book by it's cover I think and I failed....miserably! The good news is come Friday it will be grocery day again and I will have a chance to redeem myself. The bad news is BDJ is headed home for a visit so I will have to return to The Place That Shall Not be Named!