Day 065 "Grocerified Vampirization"
I'm sitting in a grocery store entrance way on the most uncomfortable cast iron bench you can imagine waiting for Jeannette to get all our shit.
Oh I could go in and wander around, push the cart and all that. Sure I could. But I hate grocery stores and the act of buying groceries. And she loves it. So just as I don't typically yell for her to come in and watch when someone scores a really nice goal in a hockey game, she prefers I stay out of her way in the grocery store.
We've learned early on that she enjoys it more if I'm not wandering around with her making my grocery store face: which is really just my regular face minus any joy or interest or emotion whatsoever. In fact I'm pretty sure once I pass the thirty minute mark in such a place most of the blood drains from my face and I resemble a very bored and uninspired vampire.
So I figured I'd use this time to write the blog and get it all wrapped up nice and neat and early.
We've already had a pretty lengthy day and it's only one o'clock. I guess that's what jet lag does, if there is such a thing. I have a feeling it's a lot like "cravings" for pregnant women. Not so much an actual phenomenon as a natural process that kicks in because you're taken out of your usual routine (in the case of jet lag) and not providing the baby with the necessary food stuffs it needs (re: cravings) So the fetus tells you what to eat, in a much more subversive form that speaks to you on a very different level of conceptualization.
It makes sense doesn't it? That pregnant women crave things they don't normally eat considering the thing inside them is half them and half their partner.
Given that consideration, I'm surprised Jeannette hasn't been craving more haggis, what with my Scottish ancestry and all. Which means perhaps my whole theory is bogus.
Wouldn't be the first time.
We picked up our rental car earlier; the patented Vancouver/Toyota Matrix that I came to be so familiar with last time. It's a fun little car I have to say. I quite enjoy driving it. We then went to the dollar store to get a bunch of shit that didn't come with the furnished condo. And now we're here at the Superstore.
I know you've all been wondering exactly what I was up to today, at this exact moment, so there you go. Another entry that's like a Facebook status update. But more thorough in its detailing of the minutia that no one outside my mom might care about (and likely not even her given that she's probably on her own Facebook page right now).
Jeannette has been craving some Indian food so we're going to go fill up on that after this little errand. I love Indian food so I'm quite happy about that. And then, hopefully, we'll head back to the condo and chill out for the rest of the day. Which I "thought" we were going to be doing today anyway. But I told you as I was writing my entry yesterday that she was writing out what turned out to be a pretty substantial list of shit to do. And now here we are.
But it's fine. It all has to get done and I'd rather get it done now and be done with it. That was three 'done's in one sentence. Someone is getting impatient...
Grocery stores are like watering holes for human animals. That isn't meant in a disparaging way at all, in reference to the people I'm seeing around me. We're all animals. I'm just saying that's what it seems like to me as I sit here watching them all walk in and out. A bunch of strangers from different groups all descending at the same time on a local "community" base for a necessary resource. It's pretty interesting actually.
Or it's not and I've been sitting on this bench for too long. Judging by the mounting pain in my back I'm guessing we must be close to the 30 minute minimum now. Actually.. yep.. I must be. I just caught a glimpse of my face in the glass of a nearby automatic door. It's nearly transparent from blood loss.
In another minute I won't have a reflection at all. I better go see where she is. How much you wanna bet she hasn't even gotten past the produce section? -mp