But truth be told, I'm only good with change when it leaves certain fundamental things alone.
Moving is a necessary evil, survivable only because I know I'll love the new place in time.
Moving furniture around the house is fine, but don't switch the silverware drawer. Bunny did this when she bought the house I grew up in, and 8 years later, I still have difficulty with this.
Changing jobs is easier for me than changing commutes. It's difficult for me to describe the subtle calm of knowing exactly what will happen, exactly what I'll see, for two hours out of every workday.
And then of course there is my grocery store. You just don't mess with my grocery store.
I've been going to that grocery store since I was 11. I know the cashiers and they know me. (Interesting fact, I got my very first kiss from a bagboy there.) I know what they carry and where. I reluctantly stayed away during the cashiers strike, out of loyalty to the staff.
It's three blocks away from the house I grew up in, and three blocks away from my current apartment. They put the fresh bread out at 4pm every day.
I know the best times to shop, so that you're only sharing the store with little old ladies (no rushing, no pushing, no screaming kids, and you get great recipes while you chat in line.)
No matter what has changed in the last 14 years, I always knew where to find the mustard.
It's amazingly convienent, to be able to write out your grocery list in the order that you will pass each item.
My grocery store and me, a well-oiled machine. An old married couple. BFFs.
You don't mess with my grocery store.
DID YOU HEAR THAT, MIDDLE MANAGEMENT?
YOU DON'T REMODEL MY STORE AND MOVE THE AISLES AROUND.
(And I think the new color scheme is ugly, but we'll have to wait until my tantrum subsides before we know if that's just spite talking.)
I TAKE THIS VERY PERSONALLY.
Last night while picking up sprite for my poor handsome sickie, I bonded with a woman who's face revealed plainly that she felt the same way as I did.
"I know, ma'am," I said. "I know."
"WHY?" she said plaintively.
"We'll be all right ........... right?"
"In time. In time."
Moving is a necessary evil, survivable only because I know I'll love the new place in time.
Moving furniture around the house is fine, but don't switch the silverware drawer. Bunny did this when she bought the house I grew up in, and 8 years later, I still have difficulty with this.
Changing jobs is easier for me than changing commutes. It's difficult for me to describe the subtle calm of knowing exactly what will happen, exactly what I'll see, for two hours out of every workday.
And then of course there is my grocery store. You just don't mess with my grocery store.
I've been going to that grocery store since I was 11. I know the cashiers and they know me. (Interesting fact, I got my very first kiss from a bagboy there.) I know what they carry and where. I reluctantly stayed away during the cashiers strike, out of loyalty to the staff.
It's three blocks away from the house I grew up in, and three blocks away from my current apartment. They put the fresh bread out at 4pm every day.
I know the best times to shop, so that you're only sharing the store with little old ladies (no rushing, no pushing, no screaming kids, and you get great recipes while you chat in line.)
No matter what has changed in the last 14 years, I always knew where to find the mustard.
It's amazingly convienent, to be able to write out your grocery list in the order that you will pass each item.
My grocery store and me, a well-oiled machine. An old married couple. BFFs.
You don't mess with my grocery store.
DID YOU HEAR THAT, MIDDLE MANAGEMENT?
YOU DON'T REMODEL MY STORE AND MOVE THE AISLES AROUND.
(And I think the new color scheme is ugly, but we'll have to wait until my tantrum subsides before we know if that's just spite talking.)
I TAKE THIS VERY PERSONALLY.
Last night while picking up sprite for my poor handsome sickie, I bonded with a woman who's face revealed plainly that she felt the same way as I did.
"I know, ma'am," I said. "I know."
"WHY?" she said plaintively.
"We'll be all right ........... right?"
"In time. In time."
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