Commisscary

I spent the morning at one of my least favorite places: the commissary.

Yep, it was grocery shopping day.

Time to load up my cart, sneer at the less than stellar produce offerings and significantly whittle down Craig's paycheck.

I really and truly hate that place. Yesterday Caroline and I stopped by a local grocery store for bananas after she had her hair cut. Let me tell you, it was so nice and peaceful in there. Dim lighting, nice music, an array of beautiful and enticing food choices. There weren't any old fogies hogging the aisle with their scooters. The checkout line wasn't wrapped around the store.

Grocery shopping there would be enjoyable. Expensive, but enjoyable.

While I would heartily appreciate a peaceful shopping experience, overall I'm still way too cheap. As much as I might gripe, I'd rather navigate the crowded aisles of the commissary then spend twice as much money elsewhere.

As an added bonus, Caroline came with me today. Neither of us care to accompany each other on shopping excursions of a lengthy persuasion, so it went as well as we both could have hoped for. She's doesn't misbehave, she is a good girl, it's just that she really doesn't want to be there. And it shows.

Oh, and she INSISTS on "helping" me steer the cart.

Craig was down the street at the running track; he came afterwards to rescue us both by taking Caroline home.

Our hero!

The commissary was hopping today; payday was yesterday and the 4th of July is quickly approaching, so I'm not surprised.

I always feel kind of sad when I see people buying obvious cookout food. No, I don't have some sort of repressed childhood hot dog horror stories, but the idea that they're gearing up for a friendly get together while we're eating pan cooked turkey burgers with no one other than our lame selves is kind of depressing.

Makes me wax nostalgic for the good ol Georgia days where we actually did things like that.

So anyway, I went shopping and bought way too much food. While I'm not fond of the actual commissary experience, the worst part awaits me at home. Thankfully Craig was there to help carry in the groceries, but even worse than the quad burning hike(s) up the stairs is trying to figure out how to shove all that I bought into our side by side refrigerator.

As God (and you loyal readers)as my witness, when we have a home of our own, I will NEVER own a side by side refrigerator. It's impossible to squeeze two weeks worth of groceries into one of those things.

It's a lovely stainless steel refrigerator and despite the fact that it's a finger print magnet, it's quite easy on the eyes. However, it was not made with the purpose of stocking up and storage in mind.

The neat freak in me is mortified to show these pictures. You honestly have no idea how often I cringe when I open those doors. No amount of organization will ever conquer that pile of disarray.

Shameful.

And I didn't even show you the pantry yet.

The good news is that I won't have to go to the store for a while.

Except for tomorrow.

But that is to one of the peaceful stores to buy a few things the commissary doesn't carry.

Despite this morning's unpleasantness, it was worth it in the end.

And why, you might ask. Well, because I bought these:

SO good.

SO SO good.