I Hate Grocery Shopping

Monday Menu: Lunch: Grilled Cheese and Soup (Choice of Tomato or Chicken Noodle)
Dinner: Chicken Carbonara, Salad and Garlic Toast

Some days it’s really better not to get out of bed, don’t you think? I knew I should have called in sick this morning. I knew it when I first peeked my nose out from under the covers and felt the freezing air (we forgot to put the heat on last night…). So after battling the lovely Atlanta traffic, then being blocked off from parking at work for ½ an hour (stupid Sysco truck!), I finally made it work this morning, 40 minutes late. Not that there’s anyone monitoring when I get in and when I go and what I do in the mean time; I mean frat boys simply can’t be expected to be that responsible. Then the incident with the grilled cheeses (see the fratboyism for this week below). It was a rough start for any day let alone the Monday after a holiday. Then I remembered I had to get groceries.

I hate getting groceries for the frat. I hate it with a burning passion. I used to love getting groceries for Tyler and I, ambling up and down the aisles deciding what I wanted to eat that week. I used to love it, but not anymore. There is no time for ambling, and I have to know exactly what I need and how much of it I need. I only get one shot to get everything I need for the week, which means being super prepared and organized. This might be the time to mention that organization and preplanning are not my strongest suits. We’re talking an itemized, 3 page, single spaced list that has everything grouped by store location and which store I get it from.

Then there’s the amount of groceries. Have you ever seen $650 in groceries? I mean $650 in everyday groceries, no alcohol or caviar included. It’s a lot of stuff. And, I mean a lot. It fills the back of my SUV practically to the top. We’re talking 7-8 banana boxes full of groceries just for one week. I have to get a running start just to push the cart it’s full (I’m not kidding either, you should she the people laugh at me). And then there are the questions… When you’re walking around Sam’s with groceries piled so high the piles wobble and sway and threaten to send everything crashing to the floor, you tend to get weird looks and questions. If I had a dollar for every time someone asked me if I was having a party or where the party was, I would be able to retire sometime next semester. Seriously people, who throws parties like that? Why am I not invited? Sometime, I’m going to go in a long skirt and tell people I’m one of the Duggars and I’m shopping for my 47 brothers and sisters.

And then if that weren’t enough, I have to get the stuff out of the car, into the frat and put away. Wait, when I say put away, I mean hidden. I strategically hide the foods the frat boys would be most likely to get into, and if I can’t hide it, I put duck tape all over it and cover it with signs threatening life and limb if it’s taken (again, I’m not kidding). All of this is why I normally do my shopping on Fridays when I only have to prepare the morning meal. Today I still had to get back and have stuff put away in time to make dinner. Sigh… I’m tired and my turkey noodle soup smells done. I think today I might forgo the recipe and make tomorrow another 2 for Tuesday.