To market, to market...

...if ONLY to buy a fat pig.

I wish.

No. I go to market, to apparently be accosted by crazy people.

I admit. When I first realized that I would be at home a lot more (what with the kraken) and would be primarily responsible for grocery shopping duties, I was highly concerned. I am perfectly capable of navigating the grocery store, however, I was not interested in finding out the answer to the question I had posed so many times:

Q: Seriously. Who is shopping in the grocery store at 1:30 on a weekday?

A: Other stay-at-home moms, elderly men and women, and weird looking guys who appear to work the third shift and have the perpetually glazed look of zombies.

Into these larger categories there are subcategories, all having to do with particular mental tics, (e.g. the woman who inspects her car (really) if you just walk past it with a cart; the woman who doesn't check to see if anyone is pulling into the parking space next to her before flinging her door open as widely as she can, the myriad of people who drive aimlessly through the parking lot, as though they were the only car there.)

No matter how careful, or non-threatening I am, these people find me and I end up afraid and disgruntled every freaking time.

It is now clear to me why online grocery shopping is just so darn popular. It is clearly much safer.

[On the plus side, the wee kraken LOVES the grocery store. It is Disneyland to her. Today she was yelling so loudly with glee that I actually had to stop and explain to her that grocery stores are not for yelling. She looked at me as though I was insane. Which, based on the other patrons, was a fair assessment.]

Today's Knitting Project: MBP #1. I will finish it. Oh YES I will.

Today's Life Observation: The older and crappier the car, the more reckless the driver.