Shopping Bugs Me!

I go shopping on a regular basis. This is dictated to me by a chorus of hungry voices clamouring, "What's to eat?" Because literally half of the people with whiny, hungry voices are TALLER than me (no, wait...sigh...only one of them is shorter now), I am compelled to head out of the confines of my warm and cozy house, to go grocery shopping.

It's not the picking veggies and fruit that I dread. It's not the comparison shopping, the getting of the best deal, the piling high of the grocery cart (or carts!)... it's the checkout.

I hate checking out.

It bugs me that even though I obviously have twice as many groceries as the next guy, they rush me through in record time, pushing the button on the conveyor belt so that the groceries hit me and get in my space as I'm trying to put noodles with noodles and meat with meat.

It's the OCD.

I have to pack it a certain way. If I don't, it drives me crazy.

And the checkout girl does all that she can to thwart me in my objectives.

So, I hate shopping.