I have a big first-world problem.  I hate grocery shopping. 

I 100% appreciate that I am privileged to be able to hop in my car, drive to a store full of food and supplies, spend money I have made at my job, and come back home to fill my cupboards and feed my family. Really, I’m forever thankful for that.

All that aside, being grateful does not mean I enjoy it.  This is not a new admission. I’m pretty open about my issues and you could dig back to prior blog posts on the topic. But don’t bother. Because here I go again.

Some of you, God bless you, actually enjoy grocery shopping. You browse the aisles, get creative on what to buy, possibly even stop to have conversations with other shoppers.  Some of you are the opposite and view it as a necessary chore, get in, buy only necessities and get out. Done. 

For me, my angst revolves around three aspects:  The time expenditure. The monetary expenditure. And the WTF are you kidding me frustration expenditure.

The grocery thing is a PROCESS for me. First there’s the meal planning, then the list making, then the coupon and rewards point checking.  Then the decision of when to go, which generally ends up being after work in the evening. There is of course the actual shopping time – following my list which I have attempted to write in order of where items are in the store, comparing brands and costs, checking expiration dates, doubling back to find things I didn’t see on the first pass, debating extras not on the list, waiting for deli orders, waiting in line at check out and usually having to bag my own order.  All of this leads to a late arrival back home after which there’s the unloading, putting away, then making supper.  ALL are activities using up hours that I’d much rather be doing other things. Almost ANY other things.

As for the financial cost, well, I don’t have to tell any of you about that. It is downright painful. I truly don’t know how large families do it. My “big” shopping weeks make my checkbook quake in fear and cause me to mentally barter between whqt other bills will get paid that week. I get ridiculously excited over sale prices, good deals, or really nifty coupons. I almost danced in the refrigerated section recently when I found a dozen eggs for $1.99.

Lastly, the final frustration.  Quite literally EVERY TIME I shop, I come home, get unpacked, put things away, start to feel relieved that the experience is over for the next week or two, and BAM.  I discover there was something that I either forgot to pick up, or was not aware we needed. 

After my most recent big shopping trip, my WTF are you kidding me moment was about tinfoil.  Less than half an hour after getting everything done and put away, as I was throwing together a quick meal, and lo and behold:  no tinfoil. I checked the pantry. No tinfoil. I then let out curses that would make a truck driver, or perhaps a cowboy from Yellowstone, proud.  To which my husband stated: “I told you like a week ago that we were low. You said there was probably more in the pantry.”

Me: “I don’t remember you saying that. Did you perhaps share this with me when I was headed out the door to work or doing something else completely unrelated?”

Him:  “Dunno. Maybe.”

Me: “Did you check in the pantry then?  Or write it down that we needed it?”

Him:  “No. I figured you’d do that.”

Really, it is no one’s fault.  And it wasn’t anything crucial to our way of life.  We can exist, at least for a while, with no tinfoil.  It was just the “WTF are you KIDDING ME” factor that pushed me over the edge. Because it happens. Every. Time.  Could be tinfoil.  Could be apple cider vinegar.  Could be handsoap.  Could be tomato sauce.  It doesn’t matter the what.  It is the fact that with no matter what level of preparation, it is just gonna happen. So immediately upon being “done”, I’ve started another list. And have to decide if it warrants another stop back at the dreaded store the next day, or if it can wait until the next visit.

Yup. I know.  I sound super whiney.  There is a frighteningly large portion of the population who struggles to have any food each day, much less a ready supply of tinfoil.  So really, I’m not ungrateful. I’m just frustrated.  And perhaps tired.

Speaking of tired, I was talking with my sister last night and we both agreed that neither of us enjoy shopping at those huge supercenter grocery stores, where you literally could spend three hours just roaming the aisles.  I just don’t have it in me. Those ginormous stores overwhelm me. Sure, their offerings and varieties are awe-inspiring.  Perhaps someday, when I retire and have more time, I can be even more vigilant about coupon clipping and watching for sales, and can take half a day to truly “shop” those big, bright, fancy SUPERmarkets. Maybe at that point I will find joy in the process. I hope that’s the case. 

I’ll betcha their tinfoil section is something you just can’t miss.