OK. Ducking out. Back eventually.

I mean, that's not even *fun* shopping.

This is why I love grocery shopping. I read labels, I compare price per oz., I weigh the ephemeral joy quotient of a bundt cake over a carton of ice cream.

Other kinds of shopping are too hard. I start with a blouse, it's lovely, on sale for $35.00, and then I think about how much food I could get for that money, or that it's the telephone bill for a month, and then I put it back and go to a different store and find one for only $15. I'm proud of myself for a moment, until I hold it up, and I realize it hangs a little funny and it might not be quite my color, and besides, $15.00 would pay for several loaves of bread and jars of peanut butter, which are a necessity in this house, and then I put it back and decide I'll just pick up some replacement buttons for the clothes I have at home, and then I go grocery shopping instead.

Damn, forgot to bring lunch. Have no cash on me. Am resisting hitting the ATM.

My problem is Stephen does the grocery shopping. So I can relate to, "But these three books will pay for my meds this month" (or whatever) but when it comes to food? Little to no clue. I don't know how that happened, either -- I used to love food shopping. Now when I do go, I go nuts and wind up with Oreos and Pop-Tarts and Bugles, like a six-year-old who's planning the menu.

I'm a double whammy.

Or triple.

I do the family accounting AND grocery shopping.

Everything is in denominations of bills, food, diapers, and daycare. There is no real money.

Which, does not stop me from spending it.

I'm thinking decluttering my house will be my new coping thing. I could do that forever!

Oh, dude, I can get with the decluttering love. Ohhh, yeah. I'm completely addicted to the get-yer-shit-organized thing and we don't even have to talk about how I use it to avoid actually getting my shit together.

Isn't it awful? My first response to stress today was, "What do I need at Target?"

That's hilarious!

Deena, I have the opposite reaction. Grocery shopping depresses me because, by it's very nature, you are doomed like Sisyphus to do it over and over. "But didn't I just buy butter?" you think, and of course you did, but it's been consumed in the fires of the oven, dripping through the bucket holes we call recipes.

AmyLiz, I keep having this thing where we have the same first name, and our hubses have the same first name, and I occasionally start into your posts and find myself saying Noooooooooo! Stephen does not do the grocery shopping! That way lies frozen food and ranch dressing!!!!!

Umm. Obviously a me thing, and not too much of a concern for anyone else. But I get you all on the money vs stuff vs connection to reality problem.

Man, Amych, I keep being startled by the fact that you are married.

Seems like just yesterday you were contemplating the best way to flirt with him.

That way lies frozen food and ranch dressing!!!!!

Bwah! My Stephen is a food snob. Where I could live happily on frozen pizza, mac-n-cheese, and pasta sauce from a jar, he must have everything homemade.

At least he makes it.

Loving your tag, by the way. I can hear the voice in my head, and I keep wanting to bop my nonexistent yarn ponytail in time.