First of all, remember when I was all freaked out that gas is a million dollars a gallon now? Well, it turns out everything is a million dollars. Seriously, grocery shopping is a great way to ruin your day.

I left work this afternoon in a very optimistic, upbeat, outgoing mood, and I couldn't wait to see Michael. I just wanted to talk to him and soak up his cutieness.

Well, first I was a little disappointed because after he'd promised this morning ("No, I really mean it this time," he said) he did not finish his work at school. So that means he gets no privileges at home. No friends, games, TV, toys... nothing. Sit on the sofa, eat dinner, bathe, go to bed. However, I knew all that would be pretty OBE anyway since we were going grocery shopping.

I was organized about it this week. I got my Everyday Food Magazine all full of delicious sounding, quick meals mostly salady and light. I planned meals, made a list, organized it by grocery store section (because I hate it when I'm in the bread section and then the next item on my list is onions and I have to go all the way back) and even typed it up (well, hell, I do type for a living, for me this is actually even easier than writing it by hand).

It wasn't that difficult to park at the grocery store, but it was quite crowded anyway. Which just means that it's difficult to get around in the store and you frequently end up blocked into an aisle while some oblivious shopper parks HER (it's ALWAYS a HER!) basket in such a way as to block the entire aisle. On two different occasions, the blocking woman knew full well she was blocking and did it anyway and took her sweet time comparing the labels of cooking oil before getting out of the way. (So difficult not observe, "Damn, lady. Are you alone on the planet or what?")

The other thing that happens even more often is that some shopper (again, almost always a HER) blocks, not the aisle, but the shelf with the one thing on it I need. Again, today a woman was just standing and staring at the international foods so long and so hard and I know dang good and well she could see me standing there waiting for her to move so I could just grab a little bottle of sesame oil.

Now, I confess I probably did some of that myself, but only because (and here comes annoyance #3) I can never seem to find the simplest stuff in this store. I needed some anchovy paste, which they didn't have. So I was prepared to settle for an entire tin of anchovys even though a tube of the paste would be much less wasteful... anchovys are neither in short supply nor in high demand and generally cost less than $1 per tin (I think). Every grocery store in America sells anchovys and this one probably does, too, but wherever they keep them must require some high level of CIA secret clearance. They're not with the other oil-packed fish in a tin products like smoked oysters and sardines where they would normally be. Your guess is as good as mine.

Annexed to annoyance #3 was annoyance #4: the great fishstick search. Which was so dumb anyway because as it turned out the dang fishsticks were up with the other frozen fish, right next to where I had gotten a bag of frozen shrimp. But see, I didn't think to LOOK there because I assumed they'd have fishsticks with chicken nuggets, steak fingers and frozen pizzas. Someone needs to tell them it makes more sense to put all the frozen kid food together.

Annoyance #5 through #152 all concern Michael and his making me sound like every other hysterical mother screeching at their child by touching E V E R Y T H I N G, grabbing random items, trying to do the shopping for me, please can we get that, please can we get this, please can I have that in the car, please can I have that when we get home, look at this, look at that, watch me, watch how fast I can run and how high I can jump, plus lagging behind and wandering off so that I have to yell for him. It didn't seem to matter to him that I STRONGLY urged him to settle down, stick with me and keep his hands to himself. I even used my mother's menacing technique of grabbing the upper arm and squeezing VERY HARD while issuing threats through clenched teeth. But he still couldn't remember any of that for more than five minutes at a stretch. Oh yeah... I just remembered... THAT is why I don't like to take him to the store with me. I was in denial. I thought I just didn't want him to have to spend that much extra time at the Boys & Girls Club, but the real reason is because I love the little cutie but he works my last nerve in the grocery store.

And so, yes, I did buy bags and bags and bags of groceries and I've planned menus and I know we have enough food for more than a week, but it still seems like I spent a million dollars on groceries! Everything is SO expensive. Good lord just regular stuff like juice and pop tarts are an absolute fortune. In every case that I possibly can I buy store brand or generic and on this particular trip I did not buy any gourmet items. I don't buy meat (like steaks and stuff) and on this trip I did not buy any wine. But still I feel like I spent an awful lot. I know larger families spend WAY more than I did today for a weekly shopping trip, but it is just the two of us and I like to keep my weekly expenditure under $100. Preferably closer to $60. Although in this case, I suppose the reason I spent so much is because I didn't shop at all last week.

And, of course, driving out of the grocery store parking lot after having spent a small fortune on groceries I noticed the price of gas has gone up AGAIN.

Then we get home and Michael, bless his heart, not being allowed to play or anything, wants to help me. Well, yes, that is sweet as can be. But he also wants to hang on me and dog my EVERY move in the kitchen and ask an endless series of questions about dinner, mostly just repeating, when is it going to be ready? And I felt bad for not being more patient with him, but then I remembered WHY I didn't have any patience with him was because he'd used up his quota for the day while misbehaving in the grocery store.

And to top it all off... the neighbor's dog... just... barking HYSTERICALLY for at least two hours straight. Seriously... going to KILL that dog. Antifreeze kills dogs doesn't it? I think I have some in the trunk of my car.

THEN!!! In the midst of having Michael read his homework story to me, Eddie knocks on the door. He asks me if I'm busy and right away I said, "Um, yes actually, I'm getting Michael to bed." But that does not deter him. I guess he just decided not to tell me the LONG version of the story. Which was that apparently someone "reported" the junker car he's got sitting in his mother's yard and he has to get it towed and he wanted to know if I could loan him $25 as an advance on him mowing the lawn later this week. It was hard for me to refrain from speculating that it was probably his mother who reported the junker car. Also, I don't know why he thinks he can ask me for an advance on lawn mowing money. He knows I never have cash. I never use cash. I pay for everything with my card and when I need cash - which is only ever to pay him for mowing - I have to make a special trip to get it. So, no. Sorry, Eddie, can't help you and gotta go put my kid to bed. I really pretty much can't stand any of my neighbors.

And now, mercifully, the groceries have been put up (that was a trick, my pantry is not very big), dinner has been made, eaten and cleaned up, Michael has been bathed, read to and put to bed and now I can unwind from what turned out to be a VERY stressful and annoying evening. I need some freakin' Xanax...