Things Jenn Does Not Like To Do

Oh, on this list, there is many a thing, but today, I'd like to focus on just one. Grocery shopping. One of the banes of my existence. Not sure one can have more than one bane, but I say you can and I do. Having to do my own grocery shopping is one of the many, MANY reasons adulthood does not recommend itself to me. I'm sure there are many pros about being an adult; independence, self-sufficiency, being able to rent a car, etc. However, I find most of these over rated and one of the few things adulthood does have to offer that I'm looking forward to, I currently don't get to participate in. Draw your own conclusions.

This idea of pushing a squeaky-wheeled buggy (yeah, that's what I said because that's what it's called) through aisles and aisles of pre-packaged food product, agonizing over whether or not shaved and vacuum-sealed sandwich meat is really worth the dollars pasted on it's price tag, is utterly ridiculous. Who came up with these flourescent lit, warehouse sized refrigerators that consistently pipe bad lite rock out of the speakers as if having to buy stuff there to survive isn't bad enough on it's own without having to listen to Huey Lewis and the News for half an hour? It is NOT hip to be square but it would be very hip to be wielding a buggy that didn't sound like a caboose clacking down train tracks with every trip down an aisle.

In case the previous paragraphs weren't clear, I HATE this task. Even when it is completed, I look in my fridge a few days later only to find that I still have nothing to eat save a sweet potato and bread crumbs. How do these things happen? Because I'm pretty sure I just bought about $50 worth of brilliant food product in hopes of becoming the next Wolfgang Puck, and suddenly it's as if the basement nymphs snuck in during the night and ate all of my food. Bring back my Oreos, ya little punks! I'm craving them now, so I must have picked some up at the Edibles Asylum.