Battling The Blues

First off, I just want to say I'm not feeling sad or down-trodden and this has absolutely nothing to do with depression...and isn't about rhythm and blues music, either.  It's all about my 'Blue Tuesday'; what I went through on one of my 'typical' days...as only I could experience it.

The day started out as nothing special, much like most of mine are lately.  It was an extremely cold morning with temperatures dropping to five degrees below zero overnight.  I felt the chill throughout my home and actually had to throw some pants and a shirt on, instead of streaking through the apartment to perform my potty routine I do daily when I get out of bed before I head back to the kitchen to prepare a pot of coffee...'bare brewing' is what I call it.

I had decided the night before to head off to the supermarket this day to do my weekly grocery shopping.  I never go on Monday, because many of the shelves are bare from being picked over throughout the weekend and I didn't want 'leftovers' that had been stocked on Friday.  I try to get to the market before the end of the week when the store is already sold out of some items.  I really don't care for Tuesdays, as it's 'Senior Citizen Day' and my shopping takes twice as long with all the oldsters that get in my way.  I'm a patient person and know I have to wait my turn, but it gets ridiculous at times...almost like it's the destination for a nursing home field trip. I have nothing against elderly people.  I'll soon be one myself.  It seems like every centenarian in the city shuffles in this day to stock up on food.  I have to admit it's good exercise...like running an obstacle course avoiding the ancient ones.

After killing off my pot of coffee, I headed to the bus stop right next to the building where I live.  You might know, as usual, the bus was running late...and it was mighty frigid out.  Why is it that when I'm standing outside waiting early; the bus is late...and when I'm running behind schedule; the bus always arrives ahead of time?  The strong breeze that was blowing was bone chilling and froze me to the core in minute with a wind chill of -25. I was sure certain parts of my body were turning blue and I had a set of 'Nanook of the North nads'.  It didn't feel much warmer when I boarded the bus some ten minutes later, but I had begun to thaw out a little by the time we arrived at the market.

Despite being so cold, my first stop inside the store was the refrigerated food section. I'm not a glutton for punishment, but I wanted the potato salad I hadn't been able to get for the past month.  The seniors clean the store out of it while leaving macaroni salad and cole slaw for me to pick from, which I'll eat but don't care for as much. Both are made with Miracle Whip-me.  'Zing' isn't my thing and I prefer mayonnaise; which is what the tater salad is made with.  I grabbed the last two containers and threw them into my cart while chuckling to myself, 'Now you old folks are stuck with the selection you always leave for me'.

After picking up the most important item on my grocery list, I begin the task of cruising the rest of the store, dodging blue hairs here and there.  I don't get it with them.  They look at a young person with different colored hair as something strange.  Take out your compact, Toots, and get a gander at yourself.  You're not much different, except you've got a ton of wrinkles...along with an inch of rouge trying to spackle in those craters and valleys on your puss...and let's not forget about that bright red lipstick almost up to your nose and all over your teeth...err...dentures.

There's Maude shuffling along at the pace of a snail.  I think she has to start shopping Monday in order to get done by dinner time Tuesday. Here comes Tillie in her slippers and house coat with a jacket thrown over her shoulders.  Such a fashion statement. As usual, Paulina is in a fog, with her cart in the middle of the aisle leaving no room to pass on either side while she's looking around for her oatmeal.  Dear, you're in the produce department.   I really think she starts each day with a little nip or two.  Watch out!  Martha has come to a stand still. Excuse me, please.  She turns, faces you and stares.  Huh?  Excuse me.  What?  Her hearing aid batteries have died and she has no clue what you're saying.  You point at her cart and motion her to move it. Road block ahead.  Four of the girls have run into each other and decide it's social hour as they begin to cackle away catching up on what's happened to the other since they last met...yesterday.  I hope I can make it to the sandwich shop before the fresh rolls turn stale.  It's hopeless trying to get them to move, so I turn around and go back down the aisle to take another route.

Lately, I've been foregoing other groceries to get a 14" roasted beast sub...loaded with over half a pound of meat and all the extras you want. At $7.50, along with $1.99 for a pound of potato salad, I can stretch these out for three dinners...a little over $3 a meal.  That fits well within my weekly food budget and gives me something I don't mind eating multiple nights in a row.  It sure beats having a couple of those gacky dollar TV dinners.  Seeing how I only eat once a day, at least I'm getting something I enjoy.  Oh, to have enough money to be able to get a better selection, though.

I finish picking up the items on my list and head to the registers to cash out.  I've got five minutes before the bus arrives for a ride home; otherwise, I've got a half hour wait for the next...and I sure don't want to be sitting outside in this cold that long.  The lines are long and it looks like I'm not going to make it.  You might know, the express lanes are open, but they're for ten items or less...and I have 13.  I'm in luck.  The check out supervisor notices how many people are waiting and she opens another register.  Here's my chance.  Even though I only have one real leg, I can beat these oldsters...like the tortoise and the hare.  I make a mad dash to the newly opened line. I win!  Then, I recognize the gal running it.  I call her 'Molasses' because she's slower than thick syrup in a snowstorm.  Ring up one item...look around.  Ring up another item...look around some more.  This goes on until she finally hits the total button.  I'm sure glad she gets paid by the hour and not the number of items she checks out or she could make more money staying home to Gather all day.

Finally, she's done.  I glance up at the clock and it's 10:47...time for the bus to leave.  I grab my bags and race out of the store to dash around the corner of the building where the stop is.  Great!  No bus.  I missed it.  I'm going to be a 'Robsicle' by the time the next one arrives.  I sit down to die of exposure...err...wait.  I can feel my lips turning blue when off in the distance down the street, I spy a bus turn the corner and start to head toward the store.  This is one time I'm actually glad the bus is late.  I end up waiting less time for a ride home than I did to get there...and the heater is cranked on board.

Three stops into our trip, the driver puts the ramp down to allow a man in a wheelchair to board.  I'm so thankful I was able to achieve mobility with the aid of crutches, and then my prosthetic, so I don't have to rely on one of those devices to get around in.  I never sit in the first few seats on the bus as they're reserved for people with disabilities.  I'm quite capable of doing most things, so I opt to occupy the seats beyond them.  As the gentleman in the wheelchair begins to board, another man in one of the handicapped seats tells me I'm going to have to move.  He wants to put my seat up so the wheelchair can be anchored where I'm sitting.  I ask why he can't move so the man can park there...he doesn't look disabled.  He tells me he's not, but he's getting off in a few blocks.  If the bus driver had requested I move to make room; I would have gladly done so.  I'm not about to let an able-bodied person get away with being lazy.  I decide to play my 'handicap card'.  I inform him I have the right to stay where I am since I am disabled, to which I pull up my pant leg and show off my artificial leg.  I'm courteous enough to keep the front seats open for those who really need them, so I just sit there staring at him.  He doesn't say a word and gets up and moves himself.  Fool!

Though I had to put up with the gray grannies, my shopping trip was pretty successful...until I open my freezer to put an item inside.  While rearranging items to make room, I discover something where I just have to let out a scream.  The prior week, I had used a coupon for my free family-sized meal from Stouffers I received through Gather for writing a review on a Stouffers frozen dinner.  The coupon expired at the end of February and I wasn't about to let free food valued at $7.99 go to waste...even though prices have risen resulting in me paying an extra $2 for that 'free' dinner.  So much for Wegman's 'new, lower prices'. What made me shriek was I realized I had grabbed the wrong thing when shopping. I had wanted meat lasagna with tomato sauce.  What I got was vegetable lasagna with cream sauce. Gack!  Being as anal retentive as I am, I never take the top item in the frozen food compartments.  I always grab the next one down...and the veggie lasagna was in the wrong spot.  That will teach me not to look at things.  I'm glad Wegman's specializes in customer service, so I'll just take that meal with me when I go shopping next week and trade it for what I really wanted...even though the receipt was thrown in the garbage and is long gone.

For all the ups and downs of the day, I have to say I was lucky things turned out alright and I ended up having a good morning.  You've got to love it when you're up against the odds and everything turns out fine...all's well that ends well.