Before the Devil Knows You're Fed
Some call me reckless. Many call me silly. I say that once I've gotten an idea in my head, I simply must carry it out!
Today's idea was grocery shopping. My sister had left me a list of all the items she would need for the next 40 days of her Eastern Orthodox, paleo-like, Lenten fast and I would not fail her! Since I would be sharing her food, I didn't mind doing some of the shopping. "Now, " you might say, "grocery shopping is not reckless or silly at all!" and you would be right. The only problem with grocery shopping is that it usually includes a number of bags of heavy cans, and produce that must not be squished. Grocery shopping is also usually completed with the aid of an automobile. My trusty steed Brad being in the shop, I decided to have a little adventure and take the closest bus.
As soon as I stepped out of my apartment, it began to rain. Not to be deterred, I zipped up my hoodie, turned up my jams, and trotted the 6 blocks to the bus stop.
As per usual, I was not early. The bus approached before I arrived at the stop, forcing me to J-run across a busy street. Amazingly, I was not hit by a car, I got to the bus before it took off again, AND I had the exact amount of change needed for bus fare. Three crises averted before I even reached the grocery store!
My real troubles began once I arrived at Trader Joe's. Bedazzled by the organic produce and interesting labels, I began to fill my cart with can after can, stalk after stalk, not thinking about the number of city blocks I had to walk back to my apartment.
The reality of my post-bus-ride walk began to dawn on me as I turned down the last aisle, cart brimming with thai peanut sauce and lentils. "I can do it," I told myself, as I visualized my svelt, environmentally sustainable body carrying canvas bags through Belmont Shore. Like I said, once I get an idea, I have to carry it out and today was no exception.
After packing my backpack and two reusable bags full of pounds of different kinds of beans, fruits and vegetables, I prepared for the first leg of my journey: across PCH. It had begun to rain harder now, but I gripped my bags and steeled my will. Looking like a pack-mule in a red hoodie, I slowly made my way across the busiest intersection in Long Beach, praying that the signal would stay green long enough for me to get my load across safely.
As I trudged, the bags became heavier and heavier. "This must be what it feels like in CrossFit where they make you pull a giant tire across the gym," I thought as I concentrated all my energy on reaching the bus stop in the distance. Winded, wet, and determined, I reached it.
This middle leg (the bus ride) was uneventful, except for the beret clad young man who sat across from me. He was travelling with a briefcase and a large piece of luggage. I kept eyeing him suspiciously, expecting him to open up his trench coat to reveal sundry kitchen wares and French textiles.
If I had been willing to make myself look more like a newb than I already did, perhaps I would have asked if there was a stop closer to my dwelling, but proud as I am, I guessed on the stop and repacked my load. I made it across the first intersection alright, but when I crossed the second, my arms began to feel like they were dragging ocean-liners up the street. I had to stop and figure out a more efficient way to carry my burdens. As I set my bags down on the damp sidewalk, I was approached by a husky squirrel seeking a late winter hand-out. Unnerved by his audacity, I redistributed the weight of my bags onto my shoulders and tried not to look into his beady, greedy eyes.
Looking more like a beast of burden than a car-less twenty-something, I crawled up each block. I could see the walls of my apartment building in the distance, but as I neared it, I realized that the handles of the bags that I had hoisted on to my shoulders where cutting off circulation in my arms. "Is this a normal sensation during this new version of CrossFit?" I wondered. What if I didn't make it? What if I collapsed in the middle of the street? What if the bag-handles severed my arms off completely?! What if my baby lettuce is so crushed that its unrecognizable?! Where did I pack the apples? Are they safe?!
In my delirious ambling, I somehow made it to the foot of my stairs. It took me two trips to get the bags up, I was so exhausted, and even now, I may nap before I finish unpacking my cans of garbanzo beans.
Will my arms be sore tomorrow. Doubtless. Was my adventure worth it?
Definitely.
Today's idea was grocery shopping. My sister had left me a list of all the items she would need for the next 40 days of her Eastern Orthodox, paleo-like, Lenten fast and I would not fail her! Since I would be sharing her food, I didn't mind doing some of the shopping. "Now, " you might say, "grocery shopping is not reckless or silly at all!" and you would be right. The only problem with grocery shopping is that it usually includes a number of bags of heavy cans, and produce that must not be squished. Grocery shopping is also usually completed with the aid of an automobile. My trusty steed Brad being in the shop, I decided to have a little adventure and take the closest bus.
As soon as I stepped out of my apartment, it began to rain. Not to be deterred, I zipped up my hoodie, turned up my jams, and trotted the 6 blocks to the bus stop.
As per usual, I was not early. The bus approached before I arrived at the stop, forcing me to J-run across a busy street. Amazingly, I was not hit by a car, I got to the bus before it took off again, AND I had the exact amount of change needed for bus fare. Three crises averted before I even reached the grocery store!
My real troubles began once I arrived at Trader Joe's. Bedazzled by the organic produce and interesting labels, I began to fill my cart with can after can, stalk after stalk, not thinking about the number of city blocks I had to walk back to my apartment.
The reality of my post-bus-ride walk began to dawn on me as I turned down the last aisle, cart brimming with thai peanut sauce and lentils. "I can do it," I told myself, as I visualized my svelt, environmentally sustainable body carrying canvas bags through Belmont Shore. Like I said, once I get an idea, I have to carry it out and today was no exception.
After packing my backpack and two reusable bags full of pounds of different kinds of beans, fruits and vegetables, I prepared for the first leg of my journey: across PCH. It had begun to rain harder now, but I gripped my bags and steeled my will. Looking like a pack-mule in a red hoodie, I slowly made my way across the busiest intersection in Long Beach, praying that the signal would stay green long enough for me to get my load across safely.
As I trudged, the bags became heavier and heavier. "This must be what it feels like in CrossFit where they make you pull a giant tire across the gym," I thought as I concentrated all my energy on reaching the bus stop in the distance. Winded, wet, and determined, I reached it.
This middle leg (the bus ride) was uneventful, except for the beret clad young man who sat across from me. He was travelling with a briefcase and a large piece of luggage. I kept eyeing him suspiciously, expecting him to open up his trench coat to reveal sundry kitchen wares and French textiles.
If I had been willing to make myself look more like a newb than I already did, perhaps I would have asked if there was a stop closer to my dwelling, but proud as I am, I guessed on the stop and repacked my load. I made it across the first intersection alright, but when I crossed the second, my arms began to feel like they were dragging ocean-liners up the street. I had to stop and figure out a more efficient way to carry my burdens. As I set my bags down on the damp sidewalk, I was approached by a husky squirrel seeking a late winter hand-out. Unnerved by his audacity, I redistributed the weight of my bags onto my shoulders and tried not to look into his beady, greedy eyes.
Looking more like a beast of burden than a car-less twenty-something, I crawled up each block. I could see the walls of my apartment building in the distance, but as I neared it, I realized that the handles of the bags that I had hoisted on to my shoulders where cutting off circulation in my arms. "Is this a normal sensation during this new version of CrossFit?" I wondered. What if I didn't make it? What if I collapsed in the middle of the street? What if the bag-handles severed my arms off completely?! What if my baby lettuce is so crushed that its unrecognizable?! Where did I pack the apples? Are they safe?!
In my delirious ambling, I somehow made it to the foot of my stairs. It took me two trips to get the bags up, I was so exhausted, and even now, I may nap before I finish unpacking my cans of garbanzo beans.
Will my arms be sore tomorrow. Doubtless. Was my adventure worth it?
Definitely.
Oh my dear sister, what would the starving denizens of #11 do without you? Certainly have less to laugh with/at . . . /;-P
ReplyDeleteOh, pooh. My comment of late didn't stick.
ReplyDeleteI SAID you made me laugh. You made the waitress at IHOP wonder what was so funny. You made me wish to see pictures!
DUDE. Let's get a moOOVE on. I want to see gems of craftsman(woman)ship; I wanna see camping photos; I wanna see the Alberson's where your bike was stolen so I can STAY AWAY; wanna see the new shelf, the new hair product, the little tomato plant, GABE'S PUPPY!
ReplyDeleteAnd an exhortation to trust The Creator thru my latest faith crisis... You know... STUFF!