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The Inner Outer Wars – Day 14,339 – 1:31 PM

I pull into the grocery store parking lot, and Frustration jumps in the passenger’s seat. I point a finger in his face and erupt, “No! Not again! Wait in the car!” He promises to stay put while I shop, but before I can get out of the car he honks at some poor man who didn’t return his cart back to the corral. I point to Frustration in the passenger’s seat, but alas, as usual, cart man doesn’t see him and just glares at me. I try to defuse the tension and yell, “Hi! I really like your mustache sir.” He doesn’t buy it, because, on second glace, I see that he isn’t wearing a mustache. On third glance, I realized, mustaches are usually worn by men. I drag Frustration in the store with me, hoping to keep him out of trouble and within throttling distance.

1:33 PM

I try to select a properly working shopping cart. Frustration takes the liberty of selecting the first one he can get his hands on and charges into the store with it. The badly-needing-maintenance cart veers sharp left and knocks over some poor woman into a rack of half-price Marshmallow Peeps – which fortunately cushions her fall. I yell, “Now you’ve done it!” The woman assumes I am directing my anger at her, and walks away in a huff with a deformed purple bird stuck to her shoulder. Frustration giggles – very immature.

1:36 PM

While shopping I am hit with a powerful sense of “I’ve-seen-this-before.” I am now living an episode of Star Trek where the crew were all suddenly hit with old age and were all stuck in place, struggling to do their duties. In our local grocery store, we call this event “Friday Afternoon.” With this particular cart on this particular day I feel like I’m trying to slalom through the set of a zombie movie with a bad ski. As we weave, Frustration informs me that I should have picked a better cart, a better day to do it, and that, if I had made better choices in college, I wouldn’t need to shop during the day to begin with. What would I do without his wisdom? I mean… other than get off painkillers.

1:42 PM

I am looking for sunflower seed oil. We look for 20 minutes with Frustration making loud audible sighs and grunts, which are largely missed by most of the elderly shoppers. I ask a grocer and he says I can find it in “aisle 6, south-side, 3 shelves from the top, subsection B, towards the left, between the olive oils and spray-on Wessen.”

2:13 PM

After 3 attempts to follow his directs, I still keep coming up with a package of Easter grass and a can of pickled beets. After all this effort, I grow attached and throw them in the cart. Frustration barks out “Nice directions TomTom!” Annoyed grocer approaches and points out I’m in aisle 4 – not 5.

3:30 PM

Found sunflower oil and am trying to leave. Frustration points out that there are exactly 17 carts in single file slowly moving through 1 open cashier. He tries to take “cuts” in front of a less-than-lucid shopper who is 3 carts from the front. I grab him and we begin to wrestle, which, to the casual observer, must have looked like I had a weird nervous-system disorder. When he realizes he can’t get his way, Frustration exclaims, “Half-priced corned beef with hash in Aisle 7!” It is obvious nobody there could hear the obvious difference between in-store loud speakers and just a loud voice, because the group charges for aisle 7. All that’s left standing there are myself, Frustration, and a very irate cashier. Frustration then points out that he makes my life a whole lot easier. I was considering that he may be right in this particular instance when I am struck on the back of the heels by a shopping cart. I do a painful dance in a circle and see that my assailant has an happy grin on her face, and a purple Peep on her shoulder.

…

The Proverbs of Daren Streblow #22

“A bad episode of out-of-control emotions can make the sensitive person who gave into them feel unforgivable.  But don’t lose heart.  Pray for wisdom, clean up the glass, tape up the window, go outside, and carefully move your recliner back into your house.”