Liberation: Aisle 3

Today was all about the errands.

Vacuum, dishes, bills, and grocery. Check, check, checks, and check list.

I wrote the various items I needed: lightbulbs, breakfast bread, toothpaste, and chicken.

I went to the Trader Joe's first. Always have gone there first. They have the smaller parking lot, and it is a right turn. Then, after the TJ's, you can cut across the street quickly, defying head-on death, and pull into the expansive Gelson's parking.

At the TJ's, I would grab the toothpaste and the breakfast bread. Tom's of Maine, Spearmint Gel with Whitening, and Ezekial 4:9 Cinnamon bread.

Pulled in and parked. Walked the long way around, as always, because then I am not hit by the homeless and the petitioners, both of whom I would like to help, but can't. Guilt. So, avoid. Always do.

Inside the TJ's, I make my way to aisle 3. Toothpaste, shampoo, vitamins. Take a quick glance at the checkout lines, not too many people, good. Reach for the Gel.

Stop!

Why?

Why the gel?

That was the toothpaste my wife always wanted, because she didn't like the one with baking soda. The one I like. THE ONE I LIKE!

Epiphany! Enlightenment! Ecstasy!

I can brush with the baking soda toothpaste now. I am alone, and able to make my own choices!

Suddenly, I looked at the post-it-note that held my list, and it became this archaic scroll. Who needed to follow this? Not me, modern man! I am liberated! Had I a bra to burn, I might have. Better yet! I have a choice. And my choice is Peppermint with Baking Soda!

Now, the whole rest of my grocery selection process was an exciting new adventure. I was giddy with the thought that I could now create new ruts with which to numbingly flow through life.

I nearly skipped to the back, where breads and cookies are. Damn thee, Ezekial 4:9 Cinnamon! I have choice now! What might my Nectarines and Granny Smiths look like tomorrow with a new bread! Wait, maybe a bagel!

I scanned the wall. Poppy, Sesame, Honey, Nuts, Whole grain, Seven grain.

Hunh.

You know the thing is, breakfast really is sort of Cinnamon.

My liberation wavered, was I just drunk with power for the moment, only to be lost again at the sea of mediocrity?

No. I just like Cinnamon with fruit.

Some ruts are there because they should be. You broke one today. Good boy.

I betcha that toast tomorrow tastes like heaven though. My choice. My Cinnamon. Then know one will know I had it, because of my Baking Soda.

Life: Here I come. Look out, I'm armed and dangerous.