So I get up, do all the requisite morning chores (wash face, wash self, eye cream, baby powder etc), and head out to Staples to fax back a wedding contract for my one and only confirmed client. I don't much like faxing things at Staples, either, so this little chore adds nothing to my exuberance about March 22, a grey and drizzly Monday. My Focus is in the shop today, so I'm driving my dad's huge boat of a car, I can barely park the thing, and there's people EVERYWHERE. Everywhere. And everyone has carts from Market Basket.
Oh yes. Market Basket. I've posted about it before, albeit briefly. I don't know what happens to people when they enter that store, but let me tell you, they emerge a whole different species of stupid. After faxing my contract and edging the ocean liner out of its parking space, I sat in a crosswalk for a good five minutes waiting for the sea of MB shoppers to part long enough to pull the car through. I needed coffee. Bad. Finally, seeing an opening, I made my move. Then, from behind me, this woman starts yelling at me about not letting her pass. I say this: it's a good thing I had my sights set on Starbucks, because my simple PROXIMITY to Market Basket had set me rolling. I had half a mind to hop out of my ride and curse the bitch back to grade school.
But, I didn't. Because I am nice. Or because she was bigger than me, I don't know. But I fucking hate Market Basket. And Staples. And showering and parking and almost everything else right now, I'm so annoyed. And I got home and the internet was down. So I'm back to scamming dial up from the neighbors. SIGH.