As you're reading this post you should go here and listen to this song by Northern State.
Now for the real stuff. . .
Today, one of the things on my "to-do" list was to go grocery shopping with The Writer. Two things:
1. I actually don't mind this menial task that she makes me do because I love grocery shopping. I love the bright lights, I love grocery store music, I love how the produce section smells, I even love loading everything onto the conveyor belt. It's just generally a very therapeutic experience for me.
2. I hate grocery shopping with The Writer. It is quite possibly one of the most tortuous experiences of my life. Every single item she buys requires a painstaking decision process where she tries to decide which brand is cheaper, which is cheap but good quality, which is the one she used 6 years ago to make a dish whose name she can't remember. Then, after all this she gets overwhelmed and decides she doesn't actually need it at all. Usually grocery shopping with her takes at least 3 hours and leaves her anxious and on the brink of a breakdown and me with a pounding headache and the desire to punch someone really hard in the face.
As such, I've made it my personal mission to keep her from ever going grocery shopping with me if I can help it. Today was no exception.
Although I love it because it usually means at least an hour where I'm totally free from her ridiculousness it also means that when I return home, The Writer finds fault with just about every single item I bought.
Today, for example, The Writer (who went over the list three times to make sure everything was as she wanted it) unpacked one of the bags I brought in that contained 2 boxes of turkey burgers.
"Ooooh," she said, "these are actual burgers. What I wanted was the ground meat that was on sale" (I only wish you could hear her condescending tone here. Like, oh sorry you're an idiot Katy and I didn't explain this explicitly enough and now I'm stuck with this thing I don't want).
"Umm. really? Because you wrote turkey burgers on the list and they were buy one get one free like you wrote"
"Right, but I didn't want actual burgers, I just wanted the ground turkey on sale"
"Ok. but there was no turkey on sale except for these which you wrote on the list"
As usual, at this point The Writer realized that I was right and phased out of the conversation while still pretending that she had no idea what I was talking about.
Just for the record (because I'm sure you're keeping one) The Writer DID write turkey burgers on her list!
****************************
P.S. wondering about the song request? I just really like the song and was listening to it while blogging. And I thought how fun it'd be if while reading you listened to the song I did while writing.
Fun? Maybe?
Now for the real stuff. . .
Today, one of the things on my "to-do" list was to go grocery shopping with The Writer. Two things:
1. I actually don't mind this menial task that she makes me do because I love grocery shopping. I love the bright lights, I love grocery store music, I love how the produce section smells, I even love loading everything onto the conveyor belt. It's just generally a very therapeutic experience for me.
2. I hate grocery shopping with The Writer. It is quite possibly one of the most tortuous experiences of my life. Every single item she buys requires a painstaking decision process where she tries to decide which brand is cheaper, which is cheap but good quality, which is the one she used 6 years ago to make a dish whose name she can't remember. Then, after all this she gets overwhelmed and decides she doesn't actually need it at all. Usually grocery shopping with her takes at least 3 hours and leaves her anxious and on the brink of a breakdown and me with a pounding headache and the desire to punch someone really hard in the face.
As such, I've made it my personal mission to keep her from ever going grocery shopping with me if I can help it. Today was no exception.
Although I love it because it usually means at least an hour where I'm totally free from her ridiculousness it also means that when I return home, The Writer finds fault with just about every single item I bought.
Today, for example, The Writer (who went over the list three times to make sure everything was as she wanted it) unpacked one of the bags I brought in that contained 2 boxes of turkey burgers.
"Ooooh," she said, "these are actual burgers. What I wanted was the ground meat that was on sale" (I only wish you could hear her condescending tone here. Like, oh sorry you're an idiot Katy and I didn't explain this explicitly enough and now I'm stuck with this thing I don't want).
"Umm. really? Because you wrote turkey burgers on the list and they were buy one get one free like you wrote"
"Right, but I didn't want actual burgers, I just wanted the ground turkey on sale"
"Ok. but there was no turkey on sale except for these which you wrote on the list"
As usual, at this point The Writer realized that I was right and phased out of the conversation while still pretending that she had no idea what I was talking about.
Just for the record (because I'm sure you're keeping one) The Writer DID write turkey burgers on her list!
****************************
P.S. wondering about the song request? I just really like the song and was listening to it while blogging. And I thought how fun it'd be if while reading you listened to the song I did while writing.
Fun? Maybe?
Katy! Okay I believe I've told you this, but your blog cracks me up, and yes I do read occasionally. I never thought I would be able to ever meet or experience a person up to the "Writer's" personal caliber. But indeed I have met someone - which I work for. I call her the "gate-keeper." I now know exactly what you go through. And how fun it is to write about it haha :)
ReplyDelete