Don't do that!

Grumble, grumble. It was a rainy morning. I took a deep breath and decided to go grocery shopping and just get it over with already. It's my turn this weekend. Unfortunately, everyone else in town had the same brilliant plan. (It's supposed to clear up, which it is trying to do right now, and then be glorious and perfectly spring-like all day long tomorrow. A nice gift from God on Easter Sunday, I guess. Overachiever.)

As I drove around the Wegman's parking lot and parking garage for 20 minutes looking for a parking space, I told myself "don't get upset - it's fine". Let's chalk this uncharacteristic zen attitude up to the yoga I did earlier this morning. My tree pose is getting better.

I shopped. Wegman's has these new shopping carts. There are two different sizes. One is like ... picture two baskets stacked on wheels and kind of slanted out like a step-ladder. The bigger one is a behemoth version of that. I chose the behemoth for this trip. We needed toilet paper and that would take up a whole basket/shelf thingy on the smaller one. It's SO big and since the lower basket/shelf thingy juts out, you have to remind yourself that it's there, and not run into things. It's a little disorienting when you have to redefine how much space you require to maneuver through aisles, in-between people, and all the miscellaneous things like stacks of cheese on a table. On top of all of this, everyone in town is here at the same time - don't forget that patience-testing factoid.

About halfway through shopping, I remembered that I can never hear my phone ring in there, so I put in an earbud with the iPhone-answering button on the side, and listened to my Genius playlist created based on "Come On Come Out" by A Fine Frenzy. It was all light, airy, songs and I blissfully tuned out the rest of the world while I finished up. I didn't take the earbud out until it was my turn to check out. *Must remember to shop while iTuning. Much better for my mental health*

So, I paid, I left, I stepped in a cold puddle. I picked up my jeans legs, knowing they would fall down and be cold and wet on my skin in 30 seconds, but I did it anyway. Ick. No problem, almost done. The yoga is still with me.I unload. Le camry is packed and ready. I turn around to take the cart to the cart barn (I just made that up - what is that place called? The cart shed? The cart house?) and what do I see? A car. A car has been waiting for me to unload, take the cart to the cart barn, come back to the car, and leave. The nerve. That is the equivalent of tapping your foot while you wait for someone. Seriously! It would be different if it was just for a second. But I had to unload, arrange, make sure the bread wasn't getting smushed, take the cart to its rightful place, come back and drive away! All the while, this car was sitting there, staring at my backside, tapping its foot at me. You go get your own available parking spot. Don't act like this is your spot, and I'm in your way. No, no, no! I played the musical chairs game in the parking lot an hour ago, and I got a spot. I didn't cheat. This was cheating. Grumble, grumble! And look how they probably think they're so virtuous for patiently waiting for a spot to open up instead of driving around in circles like insane people. They're putting me on the spot! I've been stared at without even realizing it. I am UPset. Don't do that. Don't you tap your foot at me! So, what could I do? I blushed (partly because I'm shy like that, and partly because I was ANGERED) and hurried up and drove away. Except I couldn't hurry up and drive away! Some old lady was also being tapped at and I couldn't leave the parking lot until she finished her unloading and driving away because the toe-tapping car was holding up traffic! Not only was I stripped of my grand exit, do you know what she did? She left her cart right there. She did NOT even walk across the lane to the cart barn. Picture me rolling my eyes at the old lady, tapping my fingers at the steering wheel, windshield wiper wiping. Tick-tock, people. The yoga has left Diana. In the words of GOB from Arrested Development, "COME ON!". I hate grocery shopping. This is why we have to take turns. This is why I need to do more yoga. Grumble, grumble!