I don’t love it, because it’s mostly just ‘a chore’ and ‘time money that I’d rather not spend’ but somehow I seem to have gotten to a point in my life where I don’t hate, loathe, fear or despise much of anything that I occasionally ‘need’ to do, such as shoveling snow from the driveway, going to the dentist, doing (and paying) taxes, getting up from a warm bed on a cold, drizzly Monday morning to go to work… or shopping. It’s something that I have to do, so I try to plan the trip for the best (i.e., ‘least inconvenient’) time, get it done, get home and put things away so that I can get on with anything else that I’d rather do.
I know that I’ll feel better when I have finished the chore, and I look forward to that (and to having a houseful of food again), and I try to anticipate a few moments that I’ll really enjoy in the store: the sight of all that wonderful fresh produce arrayed for purchase, the smells at the deli counter and bakery (even if I won’t stop at those places), the sight of all the meat that I could buy if I wanted to, the colors in all of the aisles, and the few people I might talk to—intelligently—about anything under the Sun, and beautiful people everywhere, if you just look out for them.
For some reason when I check out, even though all I’m looking for is the shortest and quickest-moving line, if it’s a girl or a woman doing the check-out, it’s always the best-looking one in the store. And when I tell her that sincerely, her smile in reward is proof that I was right.