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Talking Too Much

Ohhhh, this post is refreshing. I can relate because I'm either NOT going to say anything or I talk wayyyy too much. I can remember to sort of curb it (sometimes) when I'm sitting still and thinking about it, but it's pretty hard.

I'm the person who gets the joke 10 minutes after it's told unless you are kind enough to WRITE the joke down for me. Really. I can most usually understand written words and curb myself from typing most of the stupid thoughts that occur to me. Most of the time. (Maybe the other times are why you are really reading my blog? Scary.)

The other day I was in Wal-Mart, The Place of Evil. On my grocery list were laundry soap, Smarties, pop, detangling spray, the souls of the living, and frosting. Guess which one was helpfully added by Patrick. I guess they were out of stock.

Annyway. One of the shoppers was peeking at a product label for a minute (mac-n-cheese in a box), then reaching wayyy in and rearranging the whole display. Yeah, I do stuff like that sometimes, too. You can't just accidentally knock one thing down without neatening up EVERYTHING there before moving on with your shopping. I understand.

But since I was waiting for some photos to be printed, I had to hang out for a fairly long time. Maybe about 45 minutes... aimlessly wandering about the aisles. This lady had moved on to another aisle and was rearranging other stuff. Ok, that's odd. Her home life must be really awful, but her knicknack drawer is probably organized at least. More than I can say for myself.

Ta-da, the photos are finished and now it's time to pick up the refrigerated stuff on the other side of the store before heading out. Didn't want to put that into my cart and then wait forever while it got all stale. Passed by the lady yet again, rearranging things...

"OH! YOU WORK HERE! Thank God! I was beginning to feel *very sorry* for you. But you are WORKING." (oh blehh that just slipped out, keen statement of the obvious.)

"Yeah," she said rather noncommitally. "You gotta do what you gotta do."

Ohhhkayyyy... I am relieved she doesn't have extreme mental illness in the form of obsessive-compulsive Wal-Mart shelf rearranging, and she is talking of the economy and the crapfulness of her job. Only later did I realize this. Duh.


  1. I wonder about people in Wal-Mart too, funny thing is I am sure they wonder about me as well(: Your funny, love this post! I do have say that what gets me is the little kids who want to rearrange everything(my kids do this) and the parents says "STOP doing that, leave them something to do, you dont work here" hahahahaha...hope you have a blessed day!

  2. Oh yeah. I'm hip. Most of the time anymore I'm good about thinking before I open my mouth. Most of the time. But those other times?

    Sigh . . .

    They're apparently don't carry a single Porsche at our local Walmart; nor do they carry ready-made Molotov cocktails.

  3. OMG Mrs C, that's hilarious!

    (I have rearranged stuff too - like if something's not in the right place alphabetically at the library or bookstore. hmm...)

  4. lol....thanks for a good chuckle! Our Wallyworld workers have to wear a uniform, so it's not as hard to tell if they work there or not. That and they all seem to wear mile long lanyards weighted down with smiley face buttons, a bazillion keys and latches and walkie talkies.

    Patrick is pretty tricky adding Smarties to your list. (just kidding!) lol Have a great afternoon!

  5. I've spent the last couple of weeks rearranging stuff too, that's been my job; I'm wearing the store uniform and *still* people ask me "do you work here?", before asking me where they can find...whatever..


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