I’m not gonna lie, the kids finally leaving for school was pretty nice. You know what I did with all that free time? I worked, uninterrupted for hours. It was divine. I started a project and was actually able to devout real time to it! I don’t think I can stress how close I was to losing it there at the end, trying to work almost full time from home with my kids interrupting me for all sorts of awesome shit. But not anymore!
I know I should treasure the time at home with my kids, and I do, but I constantly felt like neither work or kid time was enough. I spend about 8 hours working a day, fitting it mainly in when they are in bed or with a friend. This meant I had to cut waaaayyy back on my work schedule during the summer months, because not only do I write from home but I also run my home. It’s important shit too, people like to eat, they love to go put on clean underwear or at the very least have some as an option, and they (who am I kidding) enjoy knowing that the house has at least the top layer of scum wiped away. These small beings are fucking needy, and someone has to feed them. Guess who is the lucky lady?
But this first day back made me cocky. I didn’t want to give up my work time for household tasks so I put it off, and put it off, until there was no time left to avoid the dreaded task of grocery shopping. I figured I could run through the grocery store in 30 minutes, after all the kids weren’t with me I would be able to sail right through. I was high off back to school fumes. See, I am participating in a croc pot food exchange. It seemed like an awesome idea, until I went grocery shopping for 32 meals in 30 minutes, yes they are all a derivative of just two recipes, but I had to do some serious fraction math to get the correct ounces to cup ratios. The store was my beast and I fully intended to slay it, in a half hour. I swooshed through all knowing. I laughed at the young college students I saw praising how much fun grocery shopping is. Like seriously? It’s only fun because you aren’t fucking paying for it, your parents are!
But I digress, I rolled up to that checkout line with 7 minutes to spare till pickup. Worry began to creep in, could I do it? I mean being late for pickup on the first day is a bit off a dick head move. This led to frustration at the slow pace of the checkout clerk, who was so slower than a fucking turtle racing a hare. I was about to lose my shit, but I remained calm, smiling and nodding along while he methodically picked up the flowers and placed them in her cart so loving you would have thought they were his own. I had this, it was fine. When he started checking me out I noticed him bagging my stuff himself, verse the fancy separate bagger this grocery store normally has. The light began to dawn on me as I saw the faces of horror and anger in the other patrons face. I slowly glanced up and saw, I was in the 12 and Under lane with practically 200 things.
Yes, I was that asshole, and not by just one or two products but by an entire $285 shopping cart worth. Good news though, based upon the sighs of frustration the college students didn’t think waiting in line behind me was nearly as much fun.