ďHow are you today?Ē
ďWishing it were January 2,Ē I told the supermarket checker (under my breath; no reason to spread the humbug around, just because Iíve had enough of the holidays before theyíve even started).
I dreaded the very idea of going to the grocery store two days before Thanksgiving. I was convinced I wouldnít even find a place to park, and Iíd have to come back in the middle of the night and shop with the freaks and weirdos. No offense. But I had two missions: a deposit for the company at the bank inside the store, and rolls for Thursdayís dinner (a little early, I know, but Iím not doing any shopping on Wednesday).
Oh, and one more thing: I needed some antiperspirant, because I ran out at a really inopportune time and Iíve been using an off brand for two days and I canít get rid of this clammy feeling. No wonder Iíve been in a foul mood.
The good news is that I found a place to park in the lot, even though there was a garbage truck blocking six spaces, with a guy inside calmly eating a sandwich (and I wonder what was on it). Theyíre remodeling the bank, and taking their time about it, so even though I was second in line I still had to wait. Half an hour. Because there was only one window open, with seven people milling around behind the counter. But Iím not bitter.
I found the rolls, and a few other things on my list (including the antiperspirant), but I left several items out because I couldnít get out of that store fast enough. People were standing around chatting, with their carts side-by-side so that they blocked whole aisles. It was disgusting. It was almost as if they were in a festive mood, for some reason, but I was having none of it. Bah— oh, never mind.