u check yourself check out

I made my way to Lucky for kitty litter and spinach. Not having anything green in the house is a sure fire way to be one of those carby vegans and I really just can’t afford to be that large. the internets did not lie and it was over 90 in the city yesterday which is a feat. I got home, changed dresses, dumped my tin of random coinage into a bag and set off on Project Leafy Green and Kitty Litter.

I nearly got caught between a ghetto couple knife fight as I stood at the Coinstar which was wedged between the scratch ticket machine and the redbox video rental. I ran to the safety of produce. Apparently not being able to aptly choose a dvd within the same time it takes to buy and lose $3 on a scratch ticket is cause to cut a bitch.

I wandered the aisles listlessly, enjoying the air conditioning, wondering why couples stay in bad relationships. I thought about the epic lesbian breakup the Dr. and I listened to while we were in Seattle. We had settled down for late night corner store dinner sometime after midnight when the voice of one woman came floating in through the open window lamenting about her sex life. It took a moment to realize the enormity of the situation outside as she went into graphic detail about it. Josh later on confirmed that they break up every night outside his window.

I recounted the last argument I had that had me standing in my living room with my right leg shaking out of control. I remember looking down at it watching it twitch and trying consciously to stop it. It wouldn’t stop. My hairs were standing on end. I wondered if this was what fight or flight felt like. I clenched and unclenched my hands at a complete loss for how to disperse all of this foreign energy. It’s not in it in me to fight. I don’t do it. I walk away most of the time. I take myself out of the situation but there are times where you find yourself standing there with your right leg shaking like 9.5 on the Richter scale and this feeling like it’s now or never.

Sometimes it happens and you need to let it.

Just not every night outside of Josh’s window or at the grocery store in front of a sniffly asian girl who wants nothing to with your possible stabbing.

I can’t imagine going through that kind of explosion every day. The aftermath is equivalent to recovering from a kidney infection. I remember spending time with the girls afterwards and all of them looking at me sadly but unable to come up with anything but hugs and apologies. There was no advice to be doled out when everyone knows that only you’re the only person who can take yourself out of a bad relationship. No one can break up for you.

Or someone could, it would just be weird.

My first thought is that the older you get the less likely you will find yourself feeling this volatile. I’d like to think that you get to a point where you’ve matured that screaming and threatening is beyond you but then I think about how the older you get the less likely you are to care about social norms. I think about what I’ve read about women after menopause and how the game seems to change for lots of them. They’ve done their duty, they’ve raised their kids, now it’s time to play. They have complete disregard for what is supposed to be appropriate for their age. So yeah, I think about being an old biddy yelling at someone for not knowing how to check themselves out at a U CHECK YOURSELF CHECK OUT LINE.

DON’T GET IN THE LINE IF YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO DO IT RIGHT!

It all goes back to grocery stores doesn’t it?

I grabbed some kitty litter, made the sign of the cross and asked jesus to forgive me for throwing money into the grocery chain but until I’ve got a yard I can grow my own spinach in I’m doomed to be lazy on a 95 degree day. Coinstar users can’t be choosers.

I walked out realizing I can’t judge ghetto knife fight couple. Or I could but I’d be a hypocrite. I remember how badly I had tried to hide my old bad relationships from people lest they judge me. There are myriad answers on why I stayed in them. I did have some misplaced hope that they would change. Only if I made myself small enough that I would disappear. If only I could be as tiny as possible, as quiet as possible, you won’t even know I’m here, you won’t even remember you’re in a relationship that’s how quiet I’ll be. Only then will it be better. Only then it will change.

There is no winning with this. I need to remember to take up lots of space because it’s the one thing I can afford myself and it’s something I struggle with doing. The more you lose of your true self in a relationship the harder it is to get it back if things go awry, the harder it is to remember who you are if things continue to move forward and you’re not completely you. Compromise when it feels right to do so but not all the time and definitely not when your boyfriend calls you a bitch for taking too long at the redbox dvd rental machine.

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