Much more on the mend today and determined to do very little in the realm of strenuousness. Organized my presentation materials, worked on some poems(okay, eyed them warily and moved them around on the table) ate leftover Chinese food (nothing takes care of those sinuses like general tso's chicken) baked an apple pie (okay, by "baked" I mean took from the freezer carton and cooked in the oven for an hour.) I did manage started a little idle online early Christmas shopping. After a couple of shopping-in-the-December-frigidness related crying jaunts last year, I'm only shopping for presents online. I'm not a person who hates shopping, per se, but a person who hates shopping for things--things which are either usually not there, too expensive, or not really what I want / but I'll take what I can get. Not to mention the task getting said things home, anything larger or unweildy than a medium-sized bag, on the bus or train. The kind of shopping I like is the kind where you wander around the store and miraculuously find just the thing you didn't even know you wanted or needed and it's perfect. If I go looking for something, I usually wind up frustrated or dissappointed. Not to mention pre-Christmas Chicago downtown crowds and hysteria are an absolute nightmare. So presents are coming exclusively through the internet this year, and hopefully early enough so I'm not obsessing that last week like usual.
Grocery stores are an even greater trauma. Many a time before I succumbed to the luxury of getting them delivered, you might find me dazed in the middle of the Dominicks', list forgotten at home, 2 out of three ingrediants for what I'm making, frantically trying to figure what I'd forgotten, if I could afford it, how much more could I carry the signifigant distance back to my apartment. It didn't help that unless I wanted to do my shopping at eleven pm (occasionally happened), or get up early before work to do it (not ever going to happen) I had to do it Sunday, with everyone else in Edgewater apparantly, including old surly people nearly running you down with their carts and entire families toting five or six kids running amok. If I made it to the line, it was a good fifteen minutes before I got out of there, only to have, of course, overloaded myself, those plastic handles digging grooves in my hands and messing my back all up. Now, I go online once or twice a month, a few clicks (I pretty much get the same things every order) and I'm set for weeks at a time for like an extra $8 (plus whatever I tip the delivery guy), and it's delivered to my door. No existential crises in front of frozen foods. No tears over the produce.
