This post illustrates the frustration I feel while grocery shopping on a busy Sunday afternoon.
First, you’re going along on your merry way, looking forward to stocking up on fruits and veggies in order to get revved up on those wonderful antioxidants.
And you should, because oxidants are bad. Just ask your all your Mitochondrias.
But then, when you’re just feet away from grabbing the biggest, most tender Avocado you’ve seen on this side of the equator, you’re stopped…..
And you’re trying to be patient, you really are. After all, you just got out of church and those good feeling-lees aren’t supposed to wear off until Monday morning.
So you wait. But you don’t say anything at first, you just think about how badly you need to hurry and get home to let the dog out for a pee. It’s been several hours, because hey, you were good enough to go to Sunday School too.
But you just can’t help think that you would really like this lady to….
So you speak up.
And then you start to get pissy when Little Miss Chiquita takes the same avocado you were eyeing.
And it was probably the greatest avocado on earth.
So you just go around her and on your business.
And then all the other avocados are unfortunately hard as rocks. Too bad for you that you missed the one good one.
So you silently debate to yourself whether or not you should make the investment now of
buying an avocado in hopes that in the next week it’ll soften up and maybe, oh just maybe,
have an ounce of flavor left in it. Either way, one thing is for certain:
No Guac for you tonight.
Anyway, so then you continue on….
Another oblivous obstacle.
He’s probably a world renowned farmer or something seeing how he’s studying his vegetable options so hard.
And then you still have the dreaded aisle 7 of the store. Or as I like to call it: The Aisle of Middle Earth.
This aisle is a neccessary evil. It always has approximately 4 of the items on your grocery list.
Yet at the same time, it also has 3 or 4 items on everyone else’s list too
This aisle is a traffic jam, wrapped in a circumference of mindless browsers,
covered in a blanket of price comparers and old lady bargain hunters.
But you soldier on.
Right then you are about an inch away from pulling the fire alarm and starting a stampede,
when your rage is suddenly stifled by the innocence of a child.
But only for about 5 seconds.
Oh and FYI, your dog definitely peed on the floor.
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