Tag Archives: walmart

Day 314: sweet swear words

10 Nov

Interesting concept Justin shared with me today: the average American consumes 2 pounds of candy a month (24 pounds a year).

That’s like eating more than a pack of M&M’s every day.
This he picked up from watching The Biggest Loser.

And, this was me yesterday as we trolled, I mean, strolled the aisles at WALMART looking for a Crock-Pot (so that I can actually start cooking, I mean crocking).

I was dumbfounded by the amount of candy in this barrel.
It’s like every ten-year-old movie-goers dream.

Personally, I favored the Skittles over Hot Tamales or Nerds when I was a kid.  I eventually grew into Raisinets.  Mostly because I could justify the treat as a healthy choice — there are real raisins in there! But, these days, I am a no butter popcorn girl.

Sweet teeth aside, I have found that I reach for these comfort foods when stress sets in — well, I should say, I crave these comfort foods and I have yet to cave to them over this experiment (post cleanse).

Yet.

Today almost sent me over the edge, moving being one of my big triggers of stress.  And, we do it every 6 months, oh joy.

But, I think I found a new solution to this stress induced comfort craving — and Positive Psychology Daily News swears by it too!

According to this article, swearing (yes —bad words, bleeps, cussing) has been proven to reduce pain or frustration.

All in all, the traditional social norm that proclaims swearing is all bad does not conform to what we learn from science. Swearing can be beneficial in a physically painful situation and in a truly threatening circumstance.

That may be all the permission I need.
I just might try it tomorrow when we are moving the heavy furniture into our apartment.  Maybe we should alert the neighbors?

Hey, this year is about finding out what’s good for my head, heart, body and soul. And, if dropping an f-bomb is what it takes …well …let’s just say I am fully committed.

And, it’s good timing too— tomorrow is an F*ing Friday.
Instead of a mouth full of candy, I might just find myself with a mouth full of soap.

Day 151: all i wanted was toilet paper

31 May


Today, I dashed off the island to scoop up my car to bring it back over on the ferry.

It was a long afternoon of ferry and bus rides with one stop in between:  Walmart.

Yes, the mart of America.
A.K.A. the cheapest place to buy toilet paper off The Rock.

As I weaved through the mega store to load up on necessities for the summer I found myself stuck in front of the women’s clothing section staring at a bathing suit cover up.

My eyes were fixated.

It was adorable, loose fitting, flowing, tastefully embroidered and spectacularly perfect for a day at the beach where there was certainly a picnic and margaritas and I would be lost in a really good book.

The bathing suit cover keeps me cool and protected from the sun ~ very smart, responsible and stylish all at the same time.  Plus, the water is just warm enough that I could stand to get in for little dips, and, oh yeah, the waves not to big to send my body trampled ashore.

Then, a voice came over the Walmart paging system …
Hello!  Earth to Jamie!  You are in Walmart to buy toilet paper!! 

Okay, so it wasn’t a page, it was actually sent through my own brain waves.
But, the message was received.

What were you thinking?

With that brief lapse of consciousness I again realized the pull clothing has on my heartstrings … even in Walmart!

It is the stuff fantasy is made of.
The bathing suit cover up is just that, a cover up, a stand-in, a small prop for a day at the beach.  A day that is totally made up in my head played out in the aisle of consumerism and one that requires not just one perfect purchase, but no doubt many to keep up the charade.  That new cover up would need a hat, a turquoise necklace, or maybe a svelt scarf.  I’m not sure yet.

But, if you gave me more time I could piece an entire outfit and fantasy together.
But, I won’t.  Not this year.

Instead I will opt for the real thing:  my stretched out bikini with the missing straps.  That’s the one that gets to go with me to the beach in my real life, with my real man, my real books and some really cold Cape Cod water!

But, that’s why it’s so special.
Reality really happens.
Fantasies, well, they don’t even make it past the check out lane.

Toilet paper, on the hand, does.

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