They say confession is good for the soul, so here I go. I'm not a very patient person. I'm better than I used to be, but I'm not sure that's saying a lot. Also, I feel like I never have enough time to do all I need to do plus all I want to do. So, I'm usually concerned with doing what I need to do in a timely manner (read: I rush around madly) so I can get on with what I would rather be doing.
Well . . .
Yesterday afternoon, as soon as my last class was over, I headed to Walmart. Now, I didn't really want to go there, but I didn't want to give up any of my precious Saturday or Sunday buying groceries either, so I went.
I started out at a nice pace, quickly grabbing what I needed and tossing it into the buggy, but my efficiency didn't last very long. Somehow, no matter where I turned, there were two little old ladies on motorized carts in my way. They would park side by side in the aisle and talk. Or drive side by side. Or I'd go down an aisle that was partially blocked by a stocker and they'd be lined up and parked on the other side, blocking the whole thing. Several times I changed my game plan to get out from behind them, but it made no difference. Everywhere I turned, there they were. I made it to the produce section, and they'd beat me there, somehow, and pulled up to things in such a way that I couldn't even get around them. I felt rude just standing there, waiting, waiting, waiting . . . but I didn't know what else to do. At least I didn't sigh loudly and tap my foot.
I bet my blood pressure was through the roof.
I don't think I'm gonna be a very good little old lady.