Cart Full of Groceries.

Two hours. I had been shopping for almost two hours before I gave up and left my cart full of carefully picked produce, finely Inspected fruits, and carefully chosen dry goods out of frustration. I feel like I walked in hundreds of circles trying to find these obscure vegan ingredients with my inconsolable infant. (Yea, we’re trying the whole plant-based thing.) He didn’t want to be in the cart. He didn’t want to be in the carrier. And he most certainly did not want to walk while holding onto the cart. It was as though his irritation stemmed directly from the stale air inside the store. He didn’t want a cookie. Not even juice. I just couldn’t win. I tried to push through. I really did. But when my calculator mysteriously cleared itself as I was trying so hard to stick to budget, it pushed me over the edge. I was done. 

I may or may not have made up a white lie about my house alarm going off as I quickly left my cart with the closest associate I could find. I didn’t want to be a complete jerk and unnecessarily ruin good food. I kindly, and hurriedly, let him know there were things that needed to put back immediately so that they wouldn’t go bad. Again, I may or may not have been yelling this as I half-ran/half-walked backward toward the door.

Today has been one of those days. If It were possible, I would simply omit today’s date from all future years. Yep. Sounds good to me. See, it’s an uncelebrated anniversary of one of those stories I’d rather not re-live. We all have those, right? (Just agree with me regardless of the truth. It makes me feel better.)

That’s what happens when you try to bottle emotion: implosion. After sweeping so many feelings under the rug, they pile into mountains and will eventually trip you up. That was me today. Here I was, happily ignoring my feelings, and wham! I’m choked up with teary eyes leaving the grocery store after two hours with nothing to show but a cranky baby and sore arms from trying to manage both him and the overflowing basket. 

Sigh. Lesson learned. Acknowledgement is probably the best course of action. Closely followed by talking to a loved one, which happens to be my wife for me, and a renewed focus on healing rather than ignoring. Yes, yes I know. Baby steps. 
So, pray for me. Well, scratch that. This large coke I just picked up at the drive through has completely calmed my mood. Just pray for my wife as I break the news that we’re probably having frozen pizza and not one of those complicated, yet delicious-looking, recipes I showed her last night. Baha. And some really really bad dessert full of calories and sugar. (I eat my feelings. I’m working on that too. One thing at a time, people. I did work out today, twice actually. So I deserve it, right? *side eye and shrug*)

What do you do when you have “one of those days”? Share your thoughts and comments with me!

Thank you for reading!