random thoughts – Day 1,482 – (Sunday) – pizza and more

After the gym on Saturday, not a lot happened. I didn’t change into jeans and a sweater or any other outfit I might wear to go out. I sat on the couch not going to any of the several events scheduled around town that I had flagged in Facebook. Grocery shopping and laundry were ignored. It was a luxurious day and evening of relaxation and leisure and suddenly it was bedtime.

Sunday was busier than Saturday. Items were packed for transport to the booth at the co-op. The dance bag was reorganized and checked – zills, 25-yard skirt, veil, coin belts, payment for the new session, all present. Jeans for after class, card for my niece’s birthday, accounted for. The resale items and dance gear were loaded into the car, and it was time to hit the road.

After two hours of dance, the plan was to meet Mom at Jeffrey’s to add more items and reorganize the booth. We arrived at the same time to discover there wasn’t a single parking spot available, which is good for the sales potential, but not so good for us getting out of our cars and into the store. We skipped the stop and proceeded to my sister’s for family party time.

Yum, pizza.

We began with fresh popcorn and chips and dip, where I was introduced to bacon horseradish dip, which is quite delicious. We moved on to pizza and grilled chicken tenders from Parkhill Pizza. 

We shared stories and laughed and sang the Happy Birthday song (quite badly) before birthday cake and ice cream. There was a Facetime call with the eldest niece in Vegas. We were entertained with tales of my eldest niece’s career progress and the middle and youngest nieces’ hilarious workplace stories.

I hated to leave, but the laundry and grocery shopping chores ignored on Saturday awaited. A stop at Market Basket was an adventure unlike any experienced recently. There was a little kid dancing excitedly in the dairy department and then the deli, but thankfully, he seemed to have calmed down by the time I next saw him in another aisle. Three times passage was blocked by the same woman wearing a set of large white headphones – first in the very active dairy aisle, then the pasta section, then the ice cream freezer. Elsewhere, half-filled carts sat in the middle of thoroughfares while the shoppers wandered off to who knows where.

I had gone in for a few produce drawer staples – mushrooms, onion, broccoli – and got a few other items because, well, I was already there. The long checkout lines extended up a couple aisles. At least the 12 items or fewer line I was able to use moved quickly. There, the cashier slapped my produce around like it had offended him. The bananas, the broccoli, and the onion, all dropped onto the scale, then tossed down to the bagging spot, where they were tossed haphazardly into the bags. I walked out with two bags that resembled lumpy pillows and were awkward to carry. 

At home, I discovered the deli pack of Kalamata olives was on its side with olive juice dripping on other items and collecting in the bottom of the bag. Dumb bunny. 

The just-purchased pre-made salad with cranberries, walnuts, and blue cheese, was transferred onto a plate, and a quick dressing of red wine vinegar, olive oil, garlic, salt, and pepper was mixed. Served with sauteed tuna chunks, I could feel all the fresh and healthy benefits flowing through my system. Practically like magic, or when Popeye eats spinach and get big muscles. Or it's just my imagination.

Maybe the healthy supper will be enough to chase away the “crap, it’s practically Monday again” blues, although usually that requires something more powerful, like half a cake or a tub of ice cream.