Why I hate grocery shopping

I feel like most people complain about having to go to the grocery store or supermarket. It’s an annoying activity. It’s really expensive and it never ends. You’re just gonna have to come back to the same store to buy the same stuff next week!

That being said, I personally take my aversion to grocery shopping to extremes.

When I say that I have an aversion to grocery shopping, I honestly mean that I will postpone grocery shopping until I literally do not have enough food in my apartment to create any sort of human meal. I can stretch canned vegetables and rice and condiments and cereal and popcorn and cheese slices to create some of the strangest (and not particularly appetizing) meal combinations ever. Canned carrots for breakfast (and lunch) are not unusual for me. Not because I like carrots that much, but because it’s the only thing left in my cabinet.

 But before you begin to feel sorry for the poor college student with no money who must live in these conditions, I feel that it’s only fair to explain that I do in fact have money for groceries. My food situation only get’s to this level because I hate going to the grocery store. 

The cycle always begins the same way. I always have such high expectations of myself. I’m going to turn repetitive food shopping into a positive experience this time! It’s not gonna be like last time. NOOOOOO. Not this time. This time I’m going to be responsible and keep up on the grocery shopping before the situation gets dire…

So once I finally decide that I cannot go on without real human food for any longer I drag myself out of my apartment and begrudgingly drive to the nearest food superstore. Once there, it never fails that I choose the one cart in the entire store that makes that annoying ‘SQUEAAAAAAAK RATTLE RATTLE RATTLE SQUEAAAK” noise. I then begin what can only be described as ‘power shopping.’  It becomes a personal competition with myself to get this chore done as quickly as possible in order to leave behind the ruckus of that stupid shopping cart.

But even shopping at an accelerated pace still takes a pretty long time because as you recall I left my refrigerator in pretty dismal shape and therefore I must replace all of the basics, requiring that I go down every. Single. Aisle.

While I’m perusing every item in the grocery store it never fails. I have the same epiphany, I’m going to start cooking!! I’m gonna cook healthy. I’m gonna eat a balanced fresh diet! EVERY DAY!!!!

I then approach the produce section with such fervor! I am going to eat all these veggies! Lets see how much fruit I can fit in this cart!

Except for bananas.

I also have an aversion to buying bananas. First I must circle the banana tower like a hawk circles its prey. I’m trying to spot the best banana bunch of them all. This usually takes approximately 2 full loops to accomplished this. Then, once I find the perfect bunch more of my psychotic habits become apparent. For whatever reason I refuse to break up a bunch of bananas. If the bunch I decided on is made up of 9 bananas, you bet your bottom dollar I am taking home 9 bananas. It does not matter that they will begin to turn brown immediately after I leave the store and that realistically I only eat 1 banana a day and that I probably only actually want 4 bananas. I am going to take home 9 bananas.  My banana purchases are always left to fate.

 The banana selecting always slows down the shopping process but after a few more choices I’m back on track and I make my way to checkout. I always try to make an educated decision when considering which aisle at which to check out. Many factors must be considered. I generally like to choose a younger employee. I feel they move faster and are less chatty than the older employees (THERE ARE ALWAYS EXCEPTIONS!)  Like most people, I also consider line length before committing to a line however line length can be a deceiving indicator of checkout efficiency.

Yet, once I commit to a line, I whole-heartedly commit. Even when lesser beings begin to bail because it’s taking so long, I feel that I made a choice and I will stick with it. But like clockwork the conveyor belt breaks, the food scale stops working (thanks to those 9 stupid bananas!), and the credit card machine suddenly fails. Just when the end of this trip was so close I could taste it, I’m suddenly hurdled 15 steps backward as they call in every employee that has ever operate said piece of machinery hoping that they hold the magical piece of information that will restore everything to proper working order. No one ever can.

I end up leaving the store angry about the whole experience and with more produce than I will ever possibly eat before it goes bad because I am a college student, I live alone, and I don’t actually have time to cook fancy adult meals.

Also, It has invariably begun to rain and I’m fairly certain someone always moves my car 10 spots further back in the parking lot while I’m in the store. So I am left to face the monsoon, while pushing my squeaky heavy cart all the way to outer realms of the parking lot where I unload the billion bags as quickly as possible. I then sourly run the cart back to the cart return corral, because I feel that if I don’t return my cart I will loose my privileges to bitch about those inconsiderate assholes that don’t return their carts. I’m better than them. And I like complaining about them.

I wish my troubles ended there, but the battle of Laura vs. Grocery shopping is not yet over. I now must get all my new foodstuff up stairs into my apartment. This obviously must be done in as few trips as possible. Unloading groceries is my version of the Strong Man Competitions. They may lift cars, but I run 10 bags of groceries upstairs at one time.

I feel this task is similar to what it feels like to climb a mountain while carrying all 10 bags of your mountain gear. I wish I was exaggerating, but I am genuinely so exhausted after getting the groceries upstairs, that I must collapse onto the couch until my body returns to its normal resting heart rate.  

Luckily, putting away the groceries seems like a simple task after conquering my stairs. And I am then able to gaze lovingly at all the food at my disposal. This happy moment after grocery shopping is almost enough to make the whole experience worth while…. except then I remember that I have been nutritionally depriving myself for days and I begin my food binge.

I enjoy the luxury of my food binge to the greatest extent possible and then I realize there is no food left in my apartment but canned vegetables and rice and condiments and cereal and popcorn and cheese slices…and spoiled produce.