I think I'll take up anorexia.

Can I just say I hate grocery shopping. I would never do it again if I didn't have to. The problems seem to start as soon as you pull into the parking lot. There is never enough parking, but there would be if it weren't for all the jackasses who feel the need to double park. Really dude, you're that concerned about your 92' Intrepid getting scratched that you have to take up 2 parking spaces? I'd planned on being careful with my cart, but now I want to "accidentally" loose control of it and scratch the hell out of your sexy ride.

Then you get inside, it's always cold as shit in there and I despise being cold. The worst is in the summer when I head there from the beach in a wet bathing suit and a sundress. You walk in and it's like instant hypothermia, I just want to climb inside that little warmer and snuggle up with the rotisserie chickens. I have a feeling they would frown upon that though so, I resist.

The other customers are my main issue however, you always get those brilliant people who stop right in front of you to look at stuff with their cart sideways across the aisle. I mean seriously? Not only did you just give me whiplash to avoid hitting you, but you're going to block the entire aisle too? I might be annoyed as hell at this point but I'm still polite because I try to be one of the few decent human beings left on the planet. In my sweetest fake voice I'll say "excuse me, please." I don't know why I bother with this, they always half look over their shoulder at you, roll their eyes and groan. How dare you interrupt them while the read the nutrition facts on their cans of Pringles. I hate to break it to you lady but it doesn't matter which one you pick, they're Pringles, they're all going to give you a fat ass. Just put them in your cart and move along. I got shit to do.

Sadly, once I'm done weaving through the maze of idiots, I still have the check-out to deal with. So many frustrating things can happen at this point, and I've realized I will always pick the wrong register, always. Hey guys, ya know that big signs that says '14 items or less' yeah, that's not a suggestion. One of these days I'm just going to start counting your 22 items aloud and see what happens. You also have those assholes who have to pay for their 22 items in 3 separate ways, "I'd like to put $6 on this card, and I have $12 in cash and I'll make out a check for the rest, if that's OK." Well, it's gonna have to be OK now isn't it, you've given us no choice in the matter. It's alright though, it's my turn in line and it's all over now. No more things to annoy me.

Nope, I was wrong. I still have to get out of this damn store and to my car alive. This is easier said than done... Why in the hell do little old ladies feel the need to stop right at the door to read their receipt? They can't wait until they get outside, or at least get out of the way to do it? Of course not, but once again I bite my tongue. It's not like you can be mean to old ladies, and at least they kinda have an excuse, they're old. Lastly, there's that guy who drives 50mph through the parking lot and almost runs me over, and that never fails. It's amazing that I manage to survive these shopping trips without serious injury or emotional scarring. But it's OK, I'm finally to my car and will be home drowning my frustrations in wine before I know it. I must say though, I think life would be easier if I were anorexic...