I don't know how they do it...those women who just love going shopping. A gal I worked with who rented a room from me for a few months years ago couldn't wait to get home so she could go out again and hit the malls and the stores. For me, it would have been like taking a beating. This by way of saying I had to gear up yesterday and go to Holiday, after the cooking shows, of course. I'd seen what looked like a good recipe for baked cod, and I've been hungry for chicken-fried steak. There were a number of incidentals on the list, too. My shopping cart should have blue lights and a quiet siren to give fair warning to those who course slowly up and down the aisles that a madwoman is on her way. I know the layout of the store (it drives me bonkers when they move shelves), have my list in hand, and no backtracking is necessary. No reason to prolong the agony. Even with a substantial list, it usually takes me longer in the checkout line than in the store proper.
Ah well, needs must, and I really wasn't gone all that long. Long enough that I rewarded myself with potato chips and little peanut butter Easter eggs for dinner. (Oh, come on...you're not my mother! I'll eat healthy tonight.)
There is the most beautiful contrail streaking across the just-light sky. To me, early morning is the best time of day.
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