rich with coupons

I create a heck of a lot of dishes when left to my own devices for a weekend. Roomie is still off on her cruise with the boyfriend (aka the real significant other, the one who is not me), and I did have plans for this weekend (shocking, I know, I have a whole other friend in addition to roomie), but then I experienced a bizarre bout of nausea yesterday and ducked out. It’s okay, I’ve been out of town for the past two weekends anyway.

So what did I do with myself? Amazingly, considering how queasy I felt yesterday afternoon, I apparently spent most of the weekend eating. Or cooking at least, based on the amount of dishes in my sink. This is partly due to the fun kitchen stuff my Mom got me for Christmas and partly to the fact that yesterday was the one day this month that I actually remembered to check my mailbox. Like, my physical mailbox, where I get bills and other super cool stuff.

But THIS time, I really did get cool stuff, like the check from my last freelance project. Whenever I get these, I suddenly feel rich because I have all this “extra” money! In reality, of course, I have already spent about three times as much on “extra” stuff (mostly races I want to run) that I justified by saying, “It’s okay, I’ll pay for it with my freelance money.” Doesn’t matter; I still feel rich.

The other thing I got in the mail was a super awesome grocery-store coupon. It wasn’t for the store that I usually shop at, but seriously, if I can save $20, I’ll shop anywhere. Of course, all these savings, combined with my imagined richness, led to a hefty amount of impulse buying. It’s not my fault they put the dried fruit in the same isle as the candy! Once I was in there, I realized that my life would not be complete if I didn’t buy myself some chocolate immediately.

I’m not sure if it was the time of day I chose to go shopping, the different store I was in, or the extreme excitement caused by the amazing coupon I had in my pocket, but I found the other grocery shoppers to be especially entertaining this morning.

It was like a grocery-store adventure because I didn’t know where anything was, but apparently neither did anybody else. I ran into an old guy who was looking for bacon in the baking isle. A couple of minutes later I saw a store employee who was trying to find “the older guy who wanted bacon.” As I navigated the bumper-cart-zone near the front of the store, I passed one lady driving a motorized grocery cart and yelling up every isle, “Fred, I’ve lost you! Where’d you go? Fred!” as if she knew he was just around the corner every time.

It’s okay, I was being one of THOSE shoppers too, so I was pleased that my peculiar behavior was probably blending right in. Hopefully, nobody noticed the fact that I spent five minutes studying eggs in the refrigerator section, got a dozen out, changed my mind and got the one-and-a-half dozen out instead, put that in my cart, and then changed my mind again and went for the first dozen.

I also had a sticky note attached to my cart on which I was jotting down the price of everything I picked up. In reality, this was to make sure that I spent the minimum amount required by my coupon, but I kept forgetting and having to dash back just to write down a number. I’m sure I looked like I was on some sort of weird scavenger hunt.

The writer in me is saying I need some sort of conclusion for this post. But I’m going to go do the dishes instead.

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