Food Lion, You Ain't No Columbia Mall

Two of my very best girlfriends, Elaine and Dorothy, are working wives and mothers. Both are also highly organized. Now, I myself am also pretty dang organized, but these two could make folks with OCD/anal-retentive issues go "Wow, I never thought of doing it that way!" And I mean that in the best way - they really do have it going on, managing careers and households, nurturing kids, marriages, social lives, all with brilliance, effectiveness, and love.

One thing that both of them employ is a weekly dinner menu, and a few months ago they began encouraging me to do the same. You see, while I love to eat and enjoy all different kinds of food, I'm highly cooking-adverse. As far as domestic skills go, I clean great, decorate like a pro, can organize any drawer or closet, have the bills on a perfect schedule, can do all the laundry in a day, but cooking has never interested me. When I do cook though, I have to say that I'm pretty good at it. I just don't like it.

Anywho, E and D said it really took the pain-in-the-ass factor out of what to cook for dinner every night. And if you were in my shoes, being asked every single day by a constantly starving teenager "What are we doing for dinner?", you'd try anything to eliminate that.

So trusting my smart BFFs, and looking for some kind of solution, I decided to try it.

I drew up a Mon-Fri menu and posted it on the fridge. Almost immediately The Teenager balked. I heard things like "I don't want to use a menu, it's stupid" and "Um, I don't like (fill in the blank with something that makes zero sense) so I'm not eating that." It's times like this that remind me that she's related to her father, and why I divorced him.

But I digress.... I chose to ignore The Teenagers complaints (because they were dumb) and forged ahead with the menu plan. I made a list of all the things I'd need for each dinner, and bought them. Things started off well. It was quite nice not to give any thought to dinner, which is one less thing to clutter the already overtaxed mind of a single working mom. This plan also spawned my first attempt ever at cooking a roast in a crock pot (that is a whole other blog - don't judge me), which was quite tasty. I also got to have "brinner" (breakfast food for dinner) one night. A real treat, since I typically only get to enjoy this meal at the Double T or Honeybee diners at 2:00am (again, don't judge me).

However, the one fatal flaw in this plan that my BFF's and I overlooked is: I. Loathe. Grocery. Shopping.

Hmmm, how can I make you appreciate the level of hate I have for grocery shopping....?? I would rather go to the dentist every week for 6 months than grocery shop. I'd rather have a daily pap smear than grocery shop. I'd rather take your kids to Chuck E. Cheese than grocery shop. Are ya feelin' me yet?

Let's examine grocery stores themselves. They are always cold. Something is always spilled somewhere. The florescent lighting buzzing overhead is the most painful, annoying, and unflattering known to the human race. The music they pipe in makes me want to slit my wrists, and the decor/atmosphere is less than uninspiring.

The actual process of grocery shopping annoys me to PMDD levels (Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder, for my dude audience). You have to be ever careful and aware of how and where you put things in the cart, how and in what order you put them on the belt, what gets bagged with what, how the bags get put back into the cart, how the bags get loaded into your vehicle, blah, blah, blah, blah! I swear, they really should sell liquor in all grocery stores. At least I could numb the pain and not think about all the time I'm wasting in this godforsaken hell hole.

I suppose what I'm doing is comparing this shopping experience to the mall shopping experience. And maybe that isn't fair, but neither is life. At the mall, in my favorite stores I am surrounded by beautiful things, cool music, trendy/sexy/relaxing decor (depending on the store I'm in), and lovely scents. And I never have to bag my own items. Nor do I have to be careful of how the bags are placed in my vehicle. Never once did I crack a pair of leopard print heels by tossing a fabulous new purse on top of them.

Grocery shopping and I will never be a good fit. And I realize it's a necessary evil, but it's one I will likely go to lengths to avoid until the day I die.

Now if you'll excuse me, my subs and pizza were just delivered.