Tuesday, 9 March 2021

Grocery Store Anxiety


         Do you guys have a get ‘er done friend? I have this friend who is amazing. She has 10 kids (well, maybe 2) and is always getting her to-do lists done. I make a list with the first items being: “Get up”, “Have a shower”, and “Finish making this list”. Three check marks to start off my day. I have such good intentions at 8am but by noon my brain and body have agreed that I just need to chill out for the remainder of the day. Maybe I can stretch it to 1pm but if I push too far a mixed episode is the consequence.

 

         I feel exhausted just listening to how my friend fits in the grocery store, bank, and work between school drop off and pick up. She makes a grocery list and goes shopping. Done. No obsessing about what could go wrong or having to leave the store without her groceries because there’s too many people and it’s overwhelming. 

 

         So, for all of you who may not live up to the get ‘er done title, here’s my experience. Brandi vs the Grocery Store.

 

         I spent the day before making a grocery list that included the brand name and price of each item. This way I could find the product without getting overwhelmed by all the choices. Who knew how many types of toilet paper there were? How many ply’s would I actually need to make my bathroom experience optimal? I blocked off the whole day for 45-minutes of grocery shopping because the noise and fluorescent lights overstimulated me.

         

         I left around 9am on a weekday because the store was mostly empty. Usually only a few elderly people were shopping. They tended to cause a line up by the milk and cheese, while they looked at a flyer, but it was better than being surrounded by stressed parents and cranky kids. 

 

         At the entrance to the store the greeter gave me a smile, but I was embarrassed. I knew my hair was disheveled, I was pale, and my eyes were darting around looking for danger that was never there. 

 

         Upon entering the store I headed to the fruits and vegetables. I squeezed the kiwi’s but they were all too hard or too soft. So, I froze. Did I still get them? If I didn’t check that off my list did that mean I was a failure? A loser? I wished I didn’t go from hard kiwi to failure in 10 seconds, but this was my world. So, I grabbed a stupid, tiny plastic bag, licked my fingers, and packed up the kiwi’s I won’t eat. Covid be damned!

 

         The meat aisle was next. I forgot to write the brand name of the bacon I wanted but to my relief I wrote the price. Unfortunately, there were 5 different brands with that price. My pits started to stain my tank top and cotton filled my mouth. Breathe in, hold for 5, breathe out. (After 40 years you’d think I’d have that breathing thing down by now.) Which bacon had less fat? Which would my husband like? Did we want applewood smoked or just applewood? My get er’ done friend would have snatched one up and moved on but I stood there with a stunned look on my face. Why did everything seem so much harder for me? 

         

After searching up and down 4 aisles I found the Kraft Dinner. The new arrows for Covid protection added a whole new level of anxiety. I came to the end of an aisle and I almost ran into another cart whose driver was searching the floor to see what direction would keep us all alive. We laughed nervously and I noticed the dark circles under her eyes. She was just trying to stay awake long enough to find the goddamn peas and get home to teach her 5th grader math she had to google. I felt a little less alone.

 

         I made it to the lineup to pay. There was one thing left on my list but it was either give up or sit in the frozen food section and cry. I hadn’t brought a sweater, so I decided to leave my list unfinished. I was too inept to even find the McCain’s hash browns that my husband wanted. He did so much for me, and I couldn’t even manage to get him his favorite breakfast. Wife of the year over here.

 

         The woman in front of me was on her phone complaining about how much it cost to have her car detailed. Why was she so loud and grating? I could barely breath, how could she be worrying about her car? Also, why was her shirt so yellow? It was too bright. I looked away and scrolled through Facebook hoping I could distract myself until I went numb. Numb was so nice.

 

         Someone came up behind me. I needed 6 feet, 6 feet, 6 feet. I’m trapped. Breathe in, hold for 5, breathe out. No, you couldn’t reach past me for the frozen fruit bars. Stay in your little red circle and don’t tap your ridiculously long nails on your cart. 

 

         My turn for the cashier. She smiled but I looked down because kindness would make me break down and cry. As I placed my kiwi and bacon on the conveyer belt the toilet paper started to climb on top of the soap beside the cashier. Did I stop placing groceries on the belt? Screw it. I didn’t care anymore if I failed at the shopping experience. I just needed it to be done. I needed it all to stop so I could lay on my bed in the dark and wonder how come I couldn’t be a get er’ done friend.

 

         My friend made a list and went to the store. A short story that she probably wouldn’t  remember at the end of the day.



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