Emotional Eating Be Damned

Chicken Apple Sausage in Hot Dog Bun with Spicy Mustard
Small Popcorn, no butter
Small Diet Coke
Chocolate Biscuit Bar from Trader Joe's

I sat between two gay couples by myself this afternoon and watched a movie about a lesbian couple with teenagers, living in Los Angeles. I loved the movie.

I left the movie and headed out into the sunshine. A girl with dyed red hair, black leather pants and a hot pink g-string that poked up out of the pants looked up from her phone and winked. I paid $2.00 for my parking and said thank you, have a nice day to the cashier in the parking booth and she replied, god willing. I felt tearful in the car and put on my sunglasses even though I was alone. The sun kept going into and out of the clouds but never stayed. I wondered what the hell I was doing. I pulled into the Trader Joe's parking lot and heard raised voices as I walked inside. An old man in a gold Cadillac persistently or should I say insistently kept backing his car out of a space despite the yells and then screams of shoppers. There was a bang, a small one and I kept walking inside. I picked up a gallon of milk and then returned it for a half gallon because Henry will be gone this week and no one else drinks as much milk. I bought one pound of butter, two pizzas, a bunch of bananas and a three-pack of paper towels. The cashier had eyes that appeared to be coming out of his small head and was exceedingly friendly. I removed my sunglasses and answered that yes I was having a very nice day. I remarked how few people were in the store and how that was unusual and he said that he thought so, too.

When I got home, the boys were still fighting and Sophie was humming. What's for dinner, they asked and when I said pizza, they said yay and ran out the door. I turned inside.