It was cold and raining when I dragged myself out of bed on Friday morning. It was November 1st, just yesterday in fact. I had to get ready for an 8:00 am appointment to discuss qualifications and premiums for long term care insurance. So I needed to be on time and be prepared to make decisions about my future. The last thing my husband said to me was, “Don’t be late.”
We had to drive separately because I had to go in to work right after the appointment, and he had to head in the opposite direction. Being late was a non-issue as far as I was concerned. The meeting place was only 10 minutes down the street. I had plenty of time to stop by my neighborhood grocery store to pick up a frozen meal (yuck!) for lunch since I didn’t cook the night before.
I walked into the grocery store at about 7:30 am. In no time, I’d found the items I wanted, and I was at the register checking out. As I was waiting for the receipt, I casually asked the cashier when they expected to have seasonal products in the store. The cashier said, “I don’t really know.” Why did he say that to me? It was as if a switch was flipped on inside me. I had no intention of getting into an altercation with him or the store manager this early in the morning, particularly since I was supposed to be in the car following my husband to discuss health care needs. I had no business being in the store at all. I should’ve continued driving down the street, stopping only for red traffic lights and stop signs. But no, I had to stop by the store, and there I was having the same conversation I had last year with a cashier and two store managers in the same store about the same thing–availability of the soy nog. All I wanted to know was the date that the shelves would be stocked with the nog.
Let’s be clear, when I said “seasonal products” I really meant soy nog. What else could I have been talking about? It’s no secret that I obsess over the stuff during the holiday season, and last year was–well–you can read all about it yourself…click here. I don’t try to explain it. I accept my psychotic behaviors whenever they surface, but this situation wasn’t supposed to happen. It was only November 1st. Should I have been expecting the nog this early? Maybe not, but I am the same person who began celebrating the holiday season on October 1st. Naturally, after a month I’d have a taste for the stuff.
I left the store in a huff, but not before I asked the store manager if I was going to have to make a special request for them to order the nog this year. I can’t tell you what he said because I’d stopped listening once I realized none of them had any understanding of how urgent this was for me.
It was 8:25 am, when I sat down next to my husband at the meeting. I tried to shake the feelings of disappointment and disillusionment. But things have a way of working out. After work, later that afternoon, I walked into a nearby Target just to browse and walked out with the nog. All was right with the world again.