Hello, Paul's readers! If you've been eagerly anticipating another intellectual, compelling post (which, I suppose, is not an oxymoron) then come back later. I’m used to writing the occasionally witty but almost always fluffy and crafty entry on my own blog. Why did I venture over here? Well, today’s advent calendar assignment was to write posts each other’s blogs. So, here I am.
I suppose I should be writing something about aggression, pacifism, or the love of humankind. So...let’s go with aggression. You know what aggravates me? And is really something completely beyond my comprehension? Self-checkout lines. Paul is forever dragging me through them, always to my annoyance and chagrin. Paul thinks they’re faster. My sister thinks they’re novel entertainment. But I totally don’t get the appeal. You wait in a long line just to have to scan your own merchandise (several times, usually), inevitably having to stop and go up to the real-live person for help, push a bunch of extra buttons in an effort to swipe your debit card, meanwhile trying to pack the bags and load the cart. I mean, I already have to drive to the store and walk aimlessly up and down the aisles in search of my things, why do I want to do the work of checking out when there are people there to do it for me? To each is own I guess. In an effort to be more passive, I will at least refrain from incessantly sighing the next time Paul and I go grocery shopping.
Peace,
Kristin
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1 comment:
Dearest Kristin, how refeshing I find your writing, full of wit, and expressing things I often feel but do not put in words. Know what makes me sick? When I do all my checkout business, and have the harried human tell me to wait until they come over and check that last item again! In the words of the immortal philosopher, Winnie the Pooh, "Oh bother!"
Love, Dad Boys
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