Panic in the Parking Lot

I'm a creature of habit. This week, the girls were out of school for Columbus Day/State Fair Day/Parent-Teacher Conferences on Monday. I knew this would throw a kink in my world. I tried to prepare myself. We had enough food on hand that I could put off grocery shopping one more day. (Even if we hadn't, I'd rather go hungry than take my children with me to the store.) On top of that, we planned to celebrate my most precious mother-in-law's birthday on Monday evening, which I'm happy to do, but that also meant moving Monday Night Supper Club to Tuesday. Again, another kink. I survived Monday...barely...and not without a horrible migraine.

Then came Tuesday. I thought to myself, "Just pretend its Monday. Its the first day of the schoolweek. Its Monday Night Supper Club. Its grocery shopping day. Its Monday." And so, I drop both girls off at their respective schools and head for Wal-Mart. (Confession: Yes, I do my grocery shopping there. I buy meat there. I even buy produce there despite the fact that I saw a bird in the shoe aisle. Judge me if you must, but so far no one in my family, nor any guests I've served, have fallen ill due to mad-cow meat or pecked-over produce.) Back to the story. When I arrived at Wal-Mart, this is what I found. (cue creepy screeching Psycho music)


If you know me, you'll understand why this was traumatic. I had to park on Row 13! I'm not superstitious about the number 13, its just NOT Row 15--where I always park. Always! As I'm circling the parking lot in disbelief, my friend Johanna pulls up next to me. Thank heavens I wasn't alone in my hour of crisis! After a pep talk, I summon my courage and park my vehicle on another row. It is closer to the door, yet still way out of my comfort zone. Johanna, on a mission for Snickerdoodles, drives on over to the other side of the store in order to dash in and dash out the doors closest to the "bakery". She parked on Row 4 (and didn't even break out in a cold sweat). Oh, how I envy her!
On the bright side, I WAS able to locate my Jeep when I finished shopping; and, the next time I go to Wal-Mart, I'll have a newly black-topped parking space with freshly painted stripes waiting for me...on Row 15.