FYI

Made it to the grocery--finally. It was all I had imagined. Everyone in town was there. The children chattered on while I was trying to think and make decisions. There were several bottlenecks on tight aisles and several misses with the huge fucking cart that la nina loca insists I drive around. I was wound so tightly through the experience that I would have ended up in China if I was released. I kept getting shocked every time I picked up an item. It hurt so badly that I finally said out loud "FFFFUUUUCCCKKK." Of course the small boy and his daddy in their church clothes appreciated that one. At the check out, la nina loca through a huge fit over holding her chocolate milk. It was of such a proportion that as we're leaving I'm telling her loudly that the manager standing by the door is going to put her in Publix Jail. This is one I only use when I'm desperate. It didn't work. She carried on ALL THE WAY TO THE CAR. When we arrive, I realize that we've just stolen a package of cookies that were under her coat in the cart. I have gone back in stores before to pay for a $1 item. I think it's important to show your kids how to keep that moral compass going. However, I confess amongst her screaming the thought of returning inside and writing a check for a package of 3.00 cookies (Mr. lost the check card) didn't seem like a good idea. Sooooo, I gave them a big speech about taking things without paying, put them in the trunk, and closed it. I promise to pay next time I go.

Mr.'s Bad Habit

Nope, not talking about Mr.'s love for the ciggs or his abuse of Pepsi or his habitual snoring that could trigger an avalanche in the Swiss Alps from here. Mr. tends to wake up quickly. Don't get me wrong, he never hears his alarm but when his eyes are open, he is thinking and speaking. I wake up slowly. It is a soft, symbiotic relationship between my body and my mind. It is a process that is only complete after four sips of coffee. I cannot dialogue or deal with anyone else's until the completion stage. If words are formed and aimed at me, I strain to reach them and it fucks with the harmony of my process. This all comes to light today because my process is fucked beyond recognition. I actually wrote this post in my head while lying in the bed at about 4 a.m. My body wasn't part of the process and therefore I couldn't get out of the bed then.

I wake up around 3 a.m. to the sound of Mr.'s alarm which is the theme song to the movie Halloween cranked on his cell--that is ACROSS the ROOM. I whip myself into a sitting position mind alert at the sound. I look for him in the bed and there he is. Eyes closed, snore turned down but still ASLEEP. I rudely wake him up probably with cursing--cant' remember. He starts asking questions and talking and what not. I'm like what? no. mmmhmmm. trying to answer Mr. and finally I snap and tell him to shut up and leave me alone. He goes on about his business getting ready for work.

I lie there. Mind awake body not. Mind starts ticking slowly at first:

Damn, I'm hungry. pause. Ohhh, there's no food in the house. pause. Fuck, must grocery shop tomorrow. pause. Aw, double fuck, must take children with--husband is going to work. pause. Hate the grocery with children. pause. They'll piss me off. I'll spend too much money. pause.I have a headache. pause. Damn, no more BC powders. pause. Why am I awake and thinking about this shit????? pause. maybe I should get up. pause. Then, I'll want to eat because I'm hungry. pause. There's no food in the house. pause. I'll have to go to the grocery. pause. FUCKKKKK, back here again?????? I'm gonna hurt Mr. This is all his fault!

Needless to say, I eventually wandered back into sleep and ended up sleeping way too late into the a.m. I've had my coffee, but I'm starving. Trying to get energy to conquer the grocery.

Sorry, Mr. for the bashing. Man up, you can take it because you know I love ya!