Trader Joe's and PMS

PMS is a crazy place. Men could probably equate this to 90% of the cazy things they get involved in. Strange things happen during this hormonal hot spot in the month and I never seem to escape it. It’s like this super human force takes over my brain and suddenly I’m a hot mess and can’t figure out why I hate everyone and find them all so annoying. Then, as soon as I realize that I’ve been taken over, I cry profusely and beg forgiveness from everyone I know. This is probably the only unattractive aspect about me – and I mean only.

Needless to say, on Sunday, I woke up bright eyed and bushy tailed starving for cornbread. It couldn’t be just any cornbread either. It had to be from Trader Joe's. So after much deliberation, pacing the kitchen floor and a bag of cookies later, I decide that it’s high time I jump into my best track suit and head into the city. Well... Olympia... but you get the idea. I’m in a TRACK SUIT for crying out loud – and it’s not even 1970.

During my 20-minute drive I mentally map where I need to go while I am in town. I knew I needed to go to Trader Joe's, the tanning salon, and Office Depot to have some scanning done. The only real ‘chore’ that I enjoy doing is anything that makes me more attractive. (For a brief listing of these services please see footnote.*) So I decided I would save the best for last – tanning! Yay!

I pull into the parking lot of Trader Joe's and as I am locking my vehicle, I notice that Mr. and Mrs. Granola and their two kids - Trail and Mix - are starting at me. I give myself the once over in the reflection of my car. Best black track jacket? Check. Sweats to match with a bedazzled leg and bottom? Check. Make-up caked on so no one realizes it was leftovers from last night? Check. Cross necklace? Check (um, hello Granola family…It’s Sunday! Represent some Jesus wouldja?). Platform Guess flip flops? Check.** Hoop earrings and bling ring? Check!+

I couldn’t understand why that odd little family looked at me so strangely until I crossed the threshold of Trader Joe's. Almost instantly everyone turned to look at me - I was the Snooki in the land of organic eating dirt worshippers. I could feel the heat rise to my cheeks and my bronzer melt from my forehead. I needed to get out of this place and quick! Who knew what crazy ideas they wanted me to try. I quickly scanned the isles and as my nerves rose, so did my frustration. Where was this damn box of bread already?!

Finally a kind woman with wonderfully flowing armpit hair rustled up a gentleman who would go into the depths of the backroom farm to fish out my box of heaven. He was back behind the double doors for minutes too long. The stares kept coming and at one point, a little girl tugged on her amish mother’s skirt and whispered, “Why is she so orange?” I couldn’t hate on the little one until her beastly mother replied, “that’s what happens when you do drugs – you turn orange.” I would have loved to have stepped into that conversation and tell the little munchkin and her witch mother that what really happens when you do drugs is that you have the time of your life, flying high, dancing like it’s nobody’s business, and you wake up pool side to a plastic flamingo with your best girlfriend heaving chunks of Jack in the Box in a bush. But! I clearly was scary enough for these two little angels…they walked away quickly after my menacing stare.

Finally DJ Quick decided to come back out…empty handed. “I’m sorry miss. The truck won’t be in until this afternoon.”

Before I let the tears cascade down my little bronzed face and mess up my eyeliner, I said, “What does that mean exactly?”

He told me they were out of cornbread. Remember, this was my only reason for living on Sunday.

I quickly left the strange land of naturalists and was so saddened at the travesty our grocery stores have come to. Really, what is the purpose of even having a Trader Joes when there’s no cornbread or two buck chuck? I drug my track suited self to the tanning salon and quietly shed my tears as the heated lamps dried the saddness away.

*Facials, waxes, manicures, pedicures, massage, tanning, weight lifting, cardio, clothes shopping, shoe shopping, bikini shopping, car shopping, haircuts, colors, foils, extensions, buying push-up bras, high heel shopping, make-up…I think you get the general idea here.

**My track pants are too long so it was either platform flops or stilettos and it was church day.

+It was my lucky ring and I was definitely gonna hit some slots on the way home.