...............

I don't know about you...but I have 2 kids and one of the very last places I want to take them with me to is the grocery store. This is probably a cool third on my list of places I don't want them with me at...first being the gynecologist and second being my waxing appt...well...today, I had to go to the grocery store...we were basically about to embark on a week of Chicken Noodle Soup and Cocoa Krispies...so...it's Sunday...the day of rest. The day I refuse to shower on. Yep. Not gonna do it. I am not opposed to clean underwear and a bra...so, I do a quick change and we are out...of course, the oldest one has to ask me if I am really going out of the house like that...and my response, as usual, is that I am and I am hoping we run into his entire class on some random field trip that he wasn't invited on. This usually causes him to sigh loudly and mentally add it to the list of things he hates me for. Good thing he is only 9. I still have plenty of years ahead of me to embarrass him!! Anyway...we are off...my trip to the grocery store requires a stop at Starbucks first. I wish I could say that this was a natural progression...that I pass Starbucks on the way. But I don't. In fact, I went to the Starbucks further from my house, because it has the drive thru. Yes. That might be one of the dumbest things I do...but recall if you will...it is a. COLD and b. Sunday...the day without shower. Do I really need the good people at Starbucks to be subjected to my dirty hair and yesterdays mascara? 2 weeks ago, I stumbled in there after my sleepover at Lola's house, wearing my really comfy fleece jammies...red with cute little snowmen on them...and a sweatshirt. I am pretty sure the good folks at Starbucks considered an intervention before I left...but I was allowed to leave without one...Anyway...yes. I drove around my ass to get to my sf/ff vanilla latte. On the way there, we passed a grocery store. Oh. I thought, I could shop there...the only problem is, about a year ago, I was shopping there...and admittedly, I had not taken my Paxil in a few days...so my patience was non-existent...but I get in a line that was as long as all of the others...and start unloading my cart. I look up and no shit, the cashier was...(searching for the politically correct term, here...) uh...how do you say...retarded. So. I look around and notice that I had stumbled into a parallel universe, where 5 out of 7 of the people working the cash registers were of the same situation. Those without a clear handicap, were just plain ugly. Yeah. I know. This is bitchy...what ever...So...it was right there, that I had to promise myself never to go back to that store again. And until today, I held true to my word. But here we are...the thing with this particular store is that they have a "babysitter" in the store...you can leave your kids with this lady and shop without having to police your buggy for random cookies and candy and what ever else your kids throw in there...so I was faced with a dilemma. Go to this one...unload the kids and shop in peace...but run the risk of the continued employment of the handicapped workers...or go to the other grocery store...and deal with the kids? You can see my moral dilemma. I elected the first choice and unloaded the kids...Yes. at the end of my shopping, I was lucky enough to get in the line where not only the cashier but the bagger were both handicapped...oddly enough...it was fine. Blame it on the Lexapro...

Bread and the mean cafeteria guy.

It is here that I will capture the anger that I am feeling today...specifically toward the mean spirited cafeteria worker who chose today to piss me off.
Dear ass munch-
I get that you are only one step away from working at McDonalds and this probably eats away at your dignity and self worth, but really, how is that my fault? I don't understand. Every day, or at least everyday until last week, I got in your sandwich line and ordered a turkey and cheese sandwich, without bread. I understand that the bread is actually what MAKES a sandwich a sandwich, but honestly, is it that big of a deal that I am actually cutting out part of your job? If you are that in love with the bread, I think subway might be the place for you. Every day, you make a comment or roll your eyes or huff at me...like NOT getting bread is that much of a burden on you? I don't get it. So today, please do not think that I didn't hear your comment about me today...in front of all of the other bread eating people...how you don't understand why I can't eat bread with my sandwich, but that I can get in line for chicken nuggets...well, dick cheese, I was in line for peas. Not chicken nuggets...so how about stepping off?
I don't understand why you feel the need to do this to me every day...I guess maybe it makes you feel better about yourself? Because God knows, with a crappy cafeteria job, you need all the help you can get.
Keep on making the sandwiches there, Jared...you mean mother fucker!!
Love,
the girl who doesn't eat bread.

January-itis

So. I have had nothing happen to me in January worth blogging about. That totally sucks.
We got a dog. You would think that alone would add to the comedy that is my life ten fold. But alas. It has not. ZZZZ that is how boring I am.
I am betting 5$ that tomorrow is abuzz with excitement. I bet that I won't be able to sit still from all of the excitement that tomorrow will bring. Or not.
Wait here...on the edge of your seat...for tomorrow.