Saturday, July 14, 2012

social kvetching

Truth 

First of all, thank you all for comments on my last post. I know its a pain to comment, but I appreciate that you spent time to give me your thoughts. I wish there was a way to mush three blogs into one. I'm not sure would work really well unless I can figure out a way to do it all with tabs.  Hmm. Let me think on this. 

Anyways ...

Some weekends, when the rest of the gang retreats to the North! and Casa Beagle, I remain here to do exciting things like homework, book club and to eat standing in front of the fridge. Its all so very mature.

By the end of the week I just can't be bothered to cook or nor speak to anyone about what I am planning on having for dinner, especially if it involves words like verjus or ramps.  Yesterday, I discussed on my Facebook page the angst of deciding to drive to a grocery store with self-checkout versus one without to pick up a frozen pizza. The self-check would help avoid in engaging in inane conversation with the checker about weekend plans, the weather or anything mildly uncontroversial.  This Facebook conversation went on longer than it would have taken me drive to the store and pick up my pizza. I realize this is a behavior that I typically mock.  My dinner of turkey jerky, sharp cheddar cheese and oranges because I was too tired from typing to drive to the store was also pathetic and terribly lonely.

Social kvetching, it is not for sissies.

2 comments:

eM said...

there is this thing: take out pizza. google eet.

Lilian said...

I'm more anxious about how they pack my groceries than small talk.

I was livid at the grumpy cashier at Met Market last week because she bounced a nectarine on the floor and was rough with all my other carefully selected stone fruits. I glared at the packer and he shrugged his shoulders sheepishly. I would have queued for self-checkout if there was one.

Oh and two other words, pizza delivery. :-)