At Costco.
My first visit. Results:
- Exhaustion.
- Awe.
- I can’t seem to let my eyes subside from being propped wide open.
- A great pair of new winter PJs.
- More Advil than I’ll ever use in my lifetime.
- A hotdog with mustard and relish (they were out of sauerkraut). I haven’t had a hotdog in years. It was good.
- A big bag of kale.
Thanks to a friend who guided me through, I now know what everybody’s talking about.
And thanks, too, to all the zillions of people pushing massive carts around who did not–I repeat, not--bang them into me. This is a fear I developed not sure where but it keeps me out of Fairway’s lower level, I can tell you.
I did not acquire a toilet paper package that was larger than the closet into which I would have to store it.
I admire the several people I saw whose cart-loads were so massive, so towering, you couldn’t see the person pushing. Although I am wondering whether several boxes of avocados was at least one box too far. (Until I realized some people were buying for restaurants and small shops.)
The people who work in Costco are so nice! Really nice. And the little snacks of which you can avail yourself throughout the store, to keep up your energy, were really delicious. And filling.
As you can see, I’ve lost something in my capacity for language here. I’d blame it on Costco except I don’t want to blame anything on Costco: it’s too mighty.
So that’s it for today. I have nothing to say about Roy Moore, about the GOP, about evangelicals, about the possibility that Michael Flynn was planning to kidnap a dissident Turkish cleric…about anything important.
I’m in recovery. I postulate my recovery to last for one day.
I’m going to the library now. And to Bed Bath & Beyond, because among the things I should have but did not buy at Costco was mouthwash.