I'm weary. Coughing. Want to rest. But I can't. We need groceries. And venturing out means going to several grocery stores because of the gluten free casein free diet. I routinely go to several stores to get everything I need because not one store has everything. Sometimes, I enjoy it. Not today when I need to be resting. I wore gloves so I wouldn't leave any germs. I have not run a fever.
On the way TO shopping, I get behind folks going five-to-ten miles BELOW the speed limit. It's a pet peeve of mine.
Later, I waited at the meat counter at the grocery store longer than usual this afternoon. Two employees were conferring over something I could not see toward the back. I was the only shopper pushing a cart the length of the meat case, looking at the sales, waiting for one of them to notice me. Finally, one of the employees waited on me, and as I pushed my cart away, I heard her wait on another customer, who informed the employee that SHE was there before *I* was and the employee had waited on me out of order. What?! The employee was stunned (as I was) and apologized for not even seeing her (I didn't either), and the woman went on to explain that she rolled her cart by and made eye contact, so the employee would know she's in line.
Since when does rolling your cart by and making eye contact and then rolling away constitute a place in line to order at the meat counter at the supermarket?!?!?!?!?
Hmmmmm. I've been studying non-verbal communication for several years now, and, I have to tell you, I've never read any definition of rolling by the meat counter and making eye contact equaling "next in line" if you don't stand there and WAIT to be WAITED ON.
I felt like I did something wrong -- or like she was accusing me of doing something wrong. If I'd have known she was waiting before me, I'd have said so to the employee. But seriously: I. Didn't. Know.
And on the way home from shopping, I got behind someone going 10 miles below the speed limit, doing 35 mph in a 45 mph zone, with an aggressive male driving an SUV behind me, riding my tail as if he could make me speed up by being aggressive and riding my bumper. Is he stupid or mean or both? He's taller than I am -- surely he can see there's a lady wearing a big bun on the top of her head driving ahead of me 10 miles below the speed limit.
Pet peeves. And things that make me go, "hmmmmmm."
And then, I realized that I forgot to get an important