Senseless Discontentment

I believe that I am a positive person. I am positive even when things are looking bleak and grey, and I am positive when the sun is shining brightly, as long it isn't so bright that I get a migraine, in which case, it's a bit more difficult to be positive. I woke today at 4:30 AM. Somewhere between the time I woke up and 3:30, a little discontentment shuffled into my heart and there it sulked, in its mopey cloud until I was bound under its spell, pouring out my pixeled woes over the fact that I have no female techy friends who are able to empathize with my current plight.

No sooner had I sufficiently pittily-partied that idea up into a full-on festival, then Jealousy proudly strode in and purchased a ticket on the ferris wheel of my thoughts, spinning in my heart the very, very sad thought that I was NOT a size two at the reunion. And what DO size two people eat, anyway, so that they can be size two? Apparently nothing, because one of them told me that she ate one piece of fruit a day, and no bread, and no dairy, and where would I be without Dubliner cheese? Indeed, prior to that event, I felt quite good, minus some lovely feminine water storage due to uncontrollable events, and yet there I was, shlumping into a pit of despair over sizes. It was my fate that along with this thought came the severe lack of motivation to: a. eat anything healthy, or b. go exercise. Nothing that a diet rootbeer float can't fix, right?

In streamed a flood of thoughts about how discontent I am about this or that, and my job that is incredibly flexible and wonderful, and how I don't have enough to do right now, or is it too much? And what exactly was it again about that job? Did I know what I really wanted to be doing, when I had the world at my fingertips? At last the room was filled with party guests, each waving their woes as if they were the most severe, and so I snatched a vest out of the closet, stuffed Kawi inside so he wouldn't blow away in the wind, and walked up the street to my car (since the city decided to dig up our driveway while we were gone). So off we headed, my bird and I, attempting to leave the party behind. You see, however, I still hadn't noticed that little discontentment who somehow slipped in the back seat behind me. Soon I was bemoaning the fact that I was LONELY, and had not heard from my most beloved today, knowing full well he was buried under a mountain of work, and yet I was LONELY, me with my little bird who puts up with me but casually tosses me aside whenever OUR beloved is in sight. So he sang pleasantly to C and said, "Hey buddy!" and jabbered on while C was on the phone, but then, when he was gone, Kawi came up and gently, but deliberately nipped me on the finger to inform me (with a slight grumpy noise) that he did NOT like me holding the iPhone, because as we all know, the iPhone belongs to Kawi. I ignored him, and so he did it again. This time I moved the phone to the middle console, at which point Kawi screamed at me like a naughty child.

At last we arrived at the store, the place where I get social nourishment without any obligations. I silently tell them my woes, and they silently listen and smile. It's the conversation that never happens, and yet happens whenever I need it to. There is one particular store that is especially good at this. It is almost like going to a spa, or maybe a therapist on a bad day. I walk around the aisles, they smile and ask if they may help me, and did I find everything okay, and I let out some steam spending a few dollars on this or that. I haven't quite put my finger on why this particular store is so good at making me feel so good when I leave. I am not sure if it is the fact that they make you feel completely in control, or if it is just that they don't have Walmart-like frustratingly small aisles with everything so spread out that it takes an hour to find what you are trying to find? I never feel better after a visit to Walmart, especially when it is 3:00 AM and I have to go to one side of the store for the NyQuil and the complete opposite corner of the store for lotion Puffs. Really. Is this effective for someone who does not want to cough all over your employees and make them all deathly ill? I think not.

"Walmart Tangent"

It isn't that the people aren't nice. In fact, one of my favorite Best Buy guys started working there recently, and when I was trying to call around to get numbers to all of the Walmarts to see who still had $97.00 iPhones (just last week), he came running up to me with the number! Just like that! I was on the phone and he heard me ask for it, but the other Walmart store didn't give it to me, and so he did! How nice, don't you think? I like it when you go to a store enough that people know you by name. I bought um...3, maybe 4 laptops from him when he worked at Best Buy, not to mention several other items. James. Nice fella. Just married, going to school in emergency services, probably will be a fireman in Colorado where his wife's family lives. Not very often do you meet someone at Walmart who knows you by name. They do a lot of business, that's all I am saying, but sometimes it's nice when they know your name. One of my favorite lunch grills is like that. Marshall always calls me by name, so kind, and asks about school. He will always have my business, but once he is gone... who knows?

"/Tangent"

So back to my woes, I walk into this Kroger-based store and purchase a few items (did I mention Kawi is in my vest?) and Kawi squirmed up under my armpit so that I can't just shove his little head back in, and after emerging from my vest like a yellow-headed butterfly from a cocoon, he was angelic and charming, singing, whistling, talking, being a lover bird and not a hater bird. He loves the grocery store. Everyone smiles when they see him. They light up as if I just handed them a rose. It's so lovely. Oh, except the guy that Kawi wanted to go investigate. Kawi just loves guys, and he wanted to sit on that guy's shoulder something fierce. I finally stuffed Kawi screaming and fighting into my vest so that the poor trembling soul could pass by unmolested by my cheeky little companion.

I checked out only thirty dollars later, a reasonable fee for therapy and milk, some bean sprouts, romaine, a roasted chicken, maifun, diet rootbeer, and a few other items, wouldn't you say?

Alas, I came home and ate both chicken wings off of that roasted chicken, which really, folks, I never eat the skin or fat, so a teaspoon of meat later I realize that they are going low sodium on me or something, because that teaspoon of meat didn't taste nearly as good as it should have. Woes! But a diet rootbeer float and some clickity-clackity later, here I sit, having shed my discontent shadow somewhere between that Kroger store and a few hundred characters later.