I dream of Genie with flowers everywhere

I’m supposed to be doing a million things right now and I’m not doing a single one of them. I know you are too, you asshat. Surely there is something else you should be doing than reading this dribble.

I just can’t seem to get myself motivated to the places I need to be. Like the grocery store. I need cat food and dishwasher detergent and bread. I just can’t seem to get myself in that place. I can’t stand the type of people who go to the grocery store. Yes, I realize everyone and every type of person has to go. Perhaps I don’t like anyone, which is fine by me. It’s just that people don’t watch where they are doing and the kids are screaming and people don’t stay to the right. Ahhh!

I just need 20 things and I’ll be out of here, but then here comes mom with her 5 nose picking assclowns and I have to sit there and wait until she makes up her mind about what type of Tuna Helper she’s going to buy. Meanwhile my head is about to burst because all I can think is “ Pick one, lady! They all taste the same! Plus your kids eat snot, so surely Tuna Helper is an upgrade for them.”

And then there is the oblivious old bat who doesn’t realize the rest of the two legged world doesn’t crawl at a snails pace. She’s the one inspecting every different kind of milk and has her cart in front of her blocking your access to every other dairy product they have for sale. So help me if she didn’t need the calcium before I bust in her hip, she will afterwards. And for crying out loud, it’s MILK! You know – 2%, whole, skim, fat free. It hasn’t changed over the last 20 years, so I think you should know what color top you are by now. The lid of the milk bottle probably matches your hair color anyway! Just get the blue lid and move on you old bittie.

Right as I finally make my way to the shampoos and body products, I inevitably run into a man who’s just realizing there are more choices for deodorant than he can handle. The only men who can handle themselves in the grocery store are gay; the rest of you straight men might as well go home. Besides I’m pretty sure the gay boys really aren’t there to shop much, so they just wiz through the aisles looking for a good piece of ass. Hooray for them, and boo for straighty! You’re the dumb boy sitting there realizing that there is something different between antiperspirant and deodorant. Wow – I’ll pick you up a sticker on isle 13 for figuring out that triumphant feat. Now move on, I just need my Secret and I will get out of your way. Which by the way, ½ of all men wear anyway.

And last, but not least, I hate the three frat guys who have decided to make shopping a togetherness activity. You are irritating by yourself and now you’ve just exponentially moved up your irritation quotient when you got together a gaggle of your white t-shirts and kahki shorts. And why is your car loaded with meat like that? How much meat can you eat? You would think they were feeding all the homeless shelters in town. And then they have to buy the super gigantic pack of 100 paper towels, which are then thrust on to the top of the meat heap. Now there are three loud frat guys trying to maneuver a cart and they can’t see where the hell to go. Just like your sex life, boys. How depressing.

So I guess I do understand why I don’t want to go, but there’s no escaping it. I’m even thinking about going to the expensive grocery store to avoid all the people. I even had a dream last night about going to the fancy grocery and the whole time I was worried about the prices, but then I got over it because all the lanes were filled with flowers and it was just me zipping through the isles without any obstacles.

This is bad, I’m dreaming of grocery stores. Neurotic much?