Tuesday, November 30, 2004

Commit me!

Over the holiday weekend, I learned some new things about myself, one of the most important things being I have SERIOUS commitment issues. No, not like I want to kick my lovely fella to the curb (that's one leap I'm happy to be making), but just general, creeping, clammy unease when it comes to putting it all in for the long haul (and for me, the typical long haul is about 45 minutes).

Case in point: Just a few weeks ago said fella and I bought an auxiliary laundry basket to hold the bazillions of towels we seem to go through in a week's time since our regular basket was always bursting at the seams wit terrycloth goodness. So yeah, I picked up a regular white plastic basket at Target and got on with my life. Until I got home and found myself staring at it warily a few hours later. Actual thoughts that were running through my head: "Oh. my. god! I might have this laundry basket for the rest of my life! I mean, who just throws away a perfectly good laundry basket even if it's 60 years old? When I die, will my grandkids find this basket somewhere in my crowded basement filled with old towels and rags? What will it say about me? I'm not sure this particular basket can convey the complexity that is my life at 24. Am I selling myself short?" And on and on and on. And on.

Exhibit B: This is something I've done for years, but I just came to grips with it on Saturday when I made a big trip to Trader Joe's (nothing but love between me and that store. I'm ready to get married to it). I only go a few times a year since we don't have one in Bloomington, so you'd think I'd be all prepped to fill my cart Supermarket Sweeps style. Nooo. I picked up a dainty little basket even though I was fully aware that I would be buying mutiple bottles of wine and other relatively heavy items. This is recurring for me. I can't commit to the whole grocery store shopping experience and I just want to fill up a teeny tiny basket and get the hell out of there. Schlepping around a cart implies that I'm willing to invest lots of time and money at the store....it implies I'm committing to a whole shopping list and not just dashing in and out. Most of the time I end up with an overflowing basket so heavy it pulls my arm out of its socket. But that's ok, it all balances with the other arm that's getting strecthed out by a gallon of milk and a giant bottle of Gatorade. You know the ones with the handle?

I've decided these habits aren't normal. What's wrong with me? I could go on about my alarming quirks, but I've already committed waaay too much time to this whole damn post!
Comments:
Alison,
I so feel you on this. something about a cart says "mom or adult." Neither of which I hope to be at this moment.
And I always wonder why I put myself through the pain of carrying that damn basket. My purse (equally as heavy- not heavy like a mom's mind you. mine is heavy from all of the 'cool' stuff I have in it. you know, condoms, guns, pills, and love letters from secret admirers) is hanging from the crook of one arm and the basket in the other. I have to switch back and forth so each arm gets the same workout, or abuse. whichever you choose to call it.
 
Ali, I understand, even though I am married and seem to be totally into committing...I flipped out when I realized that my CD's had combined with Paul's. I mean here I am married for a year and I am worried that our CDs are all jumbled up, I mean ACDC just doesn't go with Ani DiFranco!

I also do the little basket thing as well, whats that all about? There is something scary about the big cart and nothing fits in those little baskets and my arm is sore the next day!
 
This is where Al and I differ. I go for the shopping cart by default. Why go to the store just to get a few things? You're just going to end up back there again in a few days. I believe that going to the grocery store is all about stocking up and taking your sweet sweet time in each and every aisle - considering new products, and building excitement towards tasty new eats and frosty treats. Your stomach is an empty canvas, and down each aisle is a happy little tree.
 
Mack...
I totally agree. A shopping trip is time when you can leasurely go through all the isles and soak up all the goodness that modern advertising has to offer. Leah, you should so understand this. I mean who knows the new Oreo flavor may totally change my life... I mean mint with chocolate all dipped in white fudge... damn near spiritual. Not to mention, with a cart you can take your time, lean on it, let it guide you. With the basket you're always uncomfortable and rushing. Slow down and smell the marketing... it's fun...
 
But Miiiikee *in best whiney voice* (aka um, Bob Ross?) you're soooo sloooow at the store. It takes houuurs with you and I want to go home not hang out in frozen foods for half an hour. I don't know, looking at this post, maybe it isn't so much commitment as it is baskets....
 
oh i totally rock the cart, and with pride. when i think i only need a few things, i go for the basket, but we usually go to the store every week or 2 and pile that cart high. i'm with mike on this one; you end up spending waaaay less time at the store if you suck it up and get yourself a cart. it never even occurred to me to be an old lady thing to do!
 
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How about the idea that when choosing a basket over a cart therein lies the absolute grocery store commitment. You're committing to a number of things that don't come with a choice of shopping cart. For one, you committing to hurry up and get out of there. Second you are committing to a limited amount of purchases as well as the size of those purchases (i.e. forget about the 3 cases of Keystone Light). With a cart there is no commitment. One is free to choose only a few items or a whole cartload if they so desire. So you see Babes, you rely on comfort of commitment, you don't fear it.
 
eww. Don't call me Babes!
 
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