I hate grocery shopping.
Well, that's actually a pretty strongly worded statement that isn't mostly true. Because I really enjoy making lists, shopping in a tidy order thanks to said list, and buying food. All of those parts of the grocery shopping experience are great! Big thumbs up from me.
The part I hate is where we come into contact with other human beings.
There are relatively few activities that I do throughout the week that can rival the grocery shopping experience on The Coming into Contact with the Annoying Humans of the World Scale. Driving is one of them...it's an inevitable daily experience that I wind up behind at least 2 or 3 people who don't know that green means go, and/or don't know how to leave enough space between their car and the one in front of them so they don't have to SLAM on their brakes all of a sudden, giving me very little warning that HEY, WE'RE STOPPING NOW.
Another one is the gym and people who pretend its their own private gym located in their parents' basement, but I already kinda discussed that last week, in another post that also involved a lot of bitching and moaning about bad drivers, so you know that these two topics are pretty close to my heart, really.
Anyway, grocery shopping. We do it on Sundays at our house, and after yesterday's weekly trip to the store, we've decided to switch starting next week. NO MORE shopping on Sundays. I suggested Wednesday night as an alternative, but Leo thinks that Friday might be the least crowded one at the stores. We might give them both a go...we'll see. But after watching parents let their children run willy-nilly throughout produce departments to play with "weird-looking" vegetables (um, that is a squash. It's not like it's a fucking breadfruit, or something, FFS. Half wit...), and get their arms stuck in the blood pressure machine in the Walmart Grocery's pharmacy section, and then finishing the trip by almost getting body-checked by a 5 month old on the hip of her apparently unconcerned (and likely super-tired, I'd guess) mother who was wearing pants that she should've given up 30 pounds ago, I'm done. Done, done, DOOONE! (Honestly, had that baby slammed into my face, who would've been blamed for the collision? I managed to avert it at the last moment, but it was almost like the woman was aiming for me, or something. Very odd.)
All this to say the same thing you all have heard me saying since about the beginning of time: I hate people. I really do. The majority seem to have their heads up their asses, and it's tiresome to deal with people like that all the time! C'mon folks!!! Be aware! Be present when you're outside the confines of your own home! And for pete's sake, try to keep your damned baby's head away from my skull, thank you very much. Jeezy.