alpo

I've been living in the same place and going to the same supermarket long enough that all the checkers know me by sight. One of them stopped mid-scan tonight and appraised a couple of bags of frozen cherries, then told me "I can't sell these to you. They're all soft."

"I didn't notice!" I said. (I didn't, not because they weren't soft but because I was tired.)

"Well, they are," he said. "Freezer must be broken."

"Better fix it before all the ice cream runs all over the floor," I said.

"Yeah, just what I need," he said.

So I didn't get any frozen cherries. But the fact that the checker was so concerned about them almost made me cry. Someone cares about my frozen-fruit-consumption success and wellbeing! I have hope for the human race again.

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I think I'm in a situation female-wise where I have a pretty good chance of not being able to be with the one I love, but instead loving the one I'm with. I've never fulfilled that particular cliche before.

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Update: I hate having chemical sensitivities, and I hate almost as much forgetting that I have them until it's too late. I just got back from a trip to Home Depot (trust me, it was the last resort for the building supplies I needed!), and I think I barely escaped getting a migraine from all the VOCs in the air there. As it is I'm going to feel like shit the rest of the day.