Monday, December 4, 2017

One of those 'train of thought' derailed days....Stranger Things Spaghetti Night

I hate going to the grocery store. (Side note, when I was little, Mom told me to never, ever say I hate something because 'hate' is an ugly word. And it is. And it's exactly how I feel about the grocery store. Sorry, Mom.)

As I was saying before I rudely interrupted myself, I absolutely hate going to the grocery store. It's partly because I was a cashier through a few of my college years, and I still have nightmares about never-ending conveyor belts of produce that I don't know the codes for and I keep having to call for a price check, and the veggies are followed by SOOO MANY old ladies with coupons for things they didn't buy, and I wake up stressed and sweaty....

Anyhoo, I mostly hate going to the store because it feels a lot like what I assume going into the Upside Down would feel like. (If you don't know what that means, you need to get a laptop, a Netflix subscription, and a free weekend.) I feel a sense of dread as soon as I pass through those automatic doors. I wander around, lost and forlorn. The lights flicker, and I just know that Winona Rider is trying to save me. Demogorgons (aka...jerks with shopping carts) come at me from every angle, and when I finally escape, I just want a comforting meal of frozen waffles, or, in my case, some pepperoni pizza. 

Tonight, I managed to escape with everything I need for a great spaghetti dinner, which is pretty much the only thing I cook. And let me tell ya, I cooked up what we in Texas call a "mess" of spaghetti...which is to say I made a ridiculous amount so I can eat leftovers for at least two meals. I've always been amused by "mess" as an quantifier, and while I've never confirmed my suspicion, I'm pretty sure the term "mess" is derived from the amount of clean up a large meal requires afterward. Which reminds me...

Dear Prego, 

Have you ever considered selling your sauce in plastic jars instead of glass? I only ask because I'm a bit of a klutz who tends to cook barefoot. 

Please think about it.

Your faithful customer, 



  1. I'm terrible at commenting, as I never know what to write. I really just wanted to let you know I enjoy reading what you have to say, and I'm glad I followed that self-promotion link so long ago on the Bloggess.

    1. Thank you! I'm glad you did, too. Frankly, it's nice to know I have at least one reader that isn't my mom or dad.

    2. I mean, I AM a mom, just not yours. Although, we might be able to get some kind of prize money if I were.