Walked this morning for 45 minutes. I traced my route, and it came out to be just shy of 3 miles. Go me. After I arrived home I did 8 Minute Abs and 8 Minute Stretch.
I had eggs for breakfast, an apple, and some green tea.
Went to Barnes and Noble, ostensibly to study. I read 20 pages of my textbook and then “rewarded” myself with 20 pages of this book.
I ended up reading the whole thing. I originally was looking for the Skinny B. book, but the only copies they had of that was a shrink-wrapped box set of Skinny B. and Skinny B. in the Kitch. The Skinny B. book for guys is just like the Skinny B. book for girls, except all the chick references are converted into guy references.
For example, instead of saying, “Keep a weight loss journal to track your progress…” it says, “If it’s not too girly for you, keep a weight loss journal to track your progress…”
The language is somewhat harsh but it’s pretty no-nonsense, and “tough love.” I enjoyed it and highly recommend it. Most weight loss advise is way too cheerful anyway.
I stopped by The Book Worm, a charming little used-bookstore. They have a trade credit system set up, if you bring in books to trade you get discounts on books in the store. I didn’t purchase anything today, but they have a great system, and nice little guides set up along the shelves that have “If you like this author, you might like so-and-so” suggestions.
I stopped by Sam’s Club on my way home to buy some groceries. When I went to checkout, the cashier refused to ring up my purchases. The reason? I was using my mom’s card. I ALWAYS use my mom’s card, and have never had a problem. Ever. “Unless your mother is physically present, I can’t ring up these purchases.”
I was humiliated. Everyone in line was looking at me. I tried to reason with him, like, ‘look man, my mom works a lot, and can’t always buy groceries herself, and I have never had a problem before, etc. etc.’ and he just wouldn’t back down. I got so pissed off. I told him I’m not trying to do anything shady, I’m not stealing from you people, I’m standing in line, with money in my hand…I had to walk away. He started saying, “Well, I can call my supervisor…” I just said, “Forget it,” and walked away. I got as far as the sidewalk. At this point I was hyperventilating and on the verge of tears. I thought, Oh hell to the freakin’ no. I did not just waste 30 minutes perusing through blueberry cartons and checking the expiration dates on milk, and opening egg cartons to make sure they weren’t cracked, just because some little brat decided he wanted to be the Bestest Little Employee Ever.
I went to customer service, and by this time I was crying for real. I was so embarassed. I couldn’t believe I was crying (I’m gonna blame this one on PMS) but it was just so patently unfair. The girl at the service desk was really sweet, she patiently listened as I blubbered my whole story (still crying, still so freakin’ embarassed I was cryin,’ ground, swallow me now) and told me that she could ring up my purchases. I went back to the checkout lane, giving the kid the stink-eye the whole time, and took the cart he had pushed to the side (I knew it would still be there. That’s the sad thing about supercenters; oftentimes discarded items just stay discarded for hours, and no one puts them back, and they spoil. I worked at Wal-Mart for four miserable weeks, I know.)
The girl told me that “they’re more strict about that now” because they’ve “had some problems.” She told me if I wanted, my mom can write me a note “authorizing” my use of her card. I still think that’s ridiculous.
After she rang up my purchases, I left the store to face a veritable wall of water. While I was in the store I had heard the rumblings of thunder and two ear-piercing lightening strikes that hit very close by. I covered up my groceries with some empty, plastic-lined cardboard trays from the big bin of discarded packaging material they keep outside, and made a mad dash for the car. I was instantly soaked. I drove home at a snail’s pace, and got even more soaked taking the groceries inside the house.
I put my drenched clothes out to dry on the back porch and took a shower. I cried some more in the shower. (Why? Why? What’s with the crying?) After I changed into fresh clothes, I ate some lentils and some of my hard-won blueberries. And strawberries. I drank a glass of water with fresh squeezed lime juice (also hard-won) and honey. (Not all at the same time.)
I still feel kinda off. Why did this situation strike a nerve? Blogosphere, analyze me!
Running Muslimah 