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Monday, June 23, 2014

First Day of Summer


The first day of Summer was the other day, from an astronomical perspective. We have already reached 90 degrees, with a zillion percent relative humidity a couple of times; so from a meteorological perspective a calendar date is somewhat ho-hum.
At times such as this, writers extol the merits, joys, and delights of the season. This ain't one those.
Recently, I have been making some observations. Oh, I know, there are the usual run-of-the-mill observations we all make. Such as cats chase birds, dogs chase cats, angry cat-owners chase dogs. Things like when the needle on the fuel gauge drops about a quarter inch below the “E”, your vehicle will soon cease to function. You know, the little things such as testing 15 year old black powder by pouring some into a small pile and proceeding to drop a lit match on top, producing a POOF of flame and smoke. Perhaps the singed eye-brow look will make a come back soon. (NOTE TO SELF: there is no expiration date on black powder). These are just the normal observations of Life.
I have been noticing some BIGGIES.
For example, did you know people with OCD tend to do things in a certain manner? I am OCD, and never noticed this until grocery shopping one Saturday with my Lovely Bride.
As we meandered aimlessly about the store, placing various items in our cart, I was making a concerted effort to have some semblance of order. You know, the fresh produce over here, the eggs and other dairy go there, canned items have their place, cereals here... a very simple, straight forward approach. What does the woman do?
She grabs stuff from the shelves or the freezer section and chucks it anywhere!
Good Grief! I was appalled to see her toss a bag of frozen peas right on top of a bunch of bananas! Then, without a moment's care or concern, she plopped a bag of frozen broccoli on the peas!
Frantically, I moved these intruders to their proper space, when-WHAM- a box of waffles lands on the canned tomatoes!
My word, our cart was transformed from order to utter chaos within the length of the freezer section! Frozen fish for making dog-food was nestled by the butter. Mixed vegetables were cuddling with the cottage cheese. Somehow the London broil had slipped its moorings with the other meat and was getting cozy with a bunch of curly parsley.
Thankfully, the eggs were spared these indignities, being nestled in the kid's seat. They and the blueberries gazed upon the turmoil below with a sympathetic “there but for the Grace of God” expression.
I abandoned all attempts to restore order somewhere near the deli. I forced myself to repress the disturbing images; which is a classic coping mechanism, knowing the check-out line would offer a chance to set things aright.
I simply trailed LB, all the while in a near catatonic state. I cringed upon witnessing the atrocity of bathroom tissue being plopped atop the eggs and berries. I agonized in silence for the peaches when a miscreant jar of Vap-O-Rub tumbled upon them.
Finally, the check-out lanes beckoned; gleaming with their promise of Hope, Order and Decorum. Like the New World must have appeared to Columbus, they danced upon my sight.
With a great sense of relief, I began to happily arrange items in their proper spots; produce with produce (subdivided by type), cans with cans, frozen items with their kin and so on. I only regret there not being time enough to have all the can labels facing the same way. But....
Reality descended upon me. THUMP!! THUMP! BANG!! My Lovely Bride was-get this now- TOSSING stuff all OVER the moving belt!! I gave her an imploring look while whispering “Please, I can do it.”
Our private moment was shattered by the most grating of laughs. Looking up, I saw a Neanderthal man actually encouraging her! “Har-har-har! There you go, Lady! Just throw that bleep on there! Har-har-har!” Good grief.. talk about waving red in front of a bull! She giggled, all the while commencing to render my neatly arranged belt to a state of total dis-organization.
I could only stand by in stunned silence. I liken it to seeing a train-wreck, you don't want to watch, but you are too mortified to look away. I stifled a sob as canned good mingled with the lettuce and frozen fish.
Finally, we loaded our bags and left this chamber of horrors behind us. We headed to the safety and comfort of our home. I tried to ignore the cries of outrage and despair emanating from the bags in the back of the SUV.
I am making fairly rapid progress now. I can talk about the incident without hyperventilating . The prognosis is positive.

My therapist feels I will be able to enter a grocery store again before Summer is over.

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