blue artichoke

Today was distressful. I suppose that's a real word - distressful - because spell check didn't underline it. The day started out well. GC and I went to a diner for breakfast, then headed into St. Louis. GC was going to the airport to catch a flight to Utah for his annual boys-only family ski trip; I wanted to shop in St. Louis. En route, GC noticed that his pants were torn in a most distressing spot. He had some athletic pants in his suitcase, so he did a quickchange (not a real word, according to spellcheck. Spellcheck is also not a real word.) in the car in a rest area parking lot. Problem solved. After dropping him at the airport, I went on to World Market, which was a most pleasant experience, and to Trader Joe's, which was distressingly crowded with scowling faces and sharp elbows. While in Trader Joe's, I got a distress call from GC, whose flight had been delayed so late that he would miss his connecting flight. He was rerouted, but had to sit in the airport for hours. Air travel has become so aggravating even when everything goes smoothly; spending more time than necessary sitting in an airport terminal is unbearable to someone as impatient as GC. His unhappiness causes me distress. But, there was nothing I could do about it, so I continued to hoard chocolate, which I will stuff into my mouth this week in an attempt to fill the hole left by GC's absence. Seriously, after my week of healthy eating, I found it very difficult to leave any chocolate on the shelves. I'm not even a chocoholic; but I'm hoping it will assuage the loneliness.

OK, so after I bought as much chocolate as I thought I'd need for the week, I headed to a mall. I have a Williams-Sonoma gift card, but no Williams-Sonoma at which to spend it. I found one at a mall in St. Louis. I passed a different mall and thought it looked fancy enough to have a Williams-Sonoma, so I circled back to check it out. It didn't; but it did have a Dillard's, and I also have a gift card there. The store had most things marked 80% off, and I couldn't find a single thing I liked/wanted/needed! Distressing. I left that mall and continued on to the one with the Williams-Sonoma. I wandered around and around that store and couldn't find the 12" nonstick skillet with a lid that I've been looking for. I asked for assistance and was told that what I want doesn't exist, because people don't use lids on skillets. I know they exist, because I have one that I want to replace! We argued further about the proper names and uses of an omelet pan, saute pan and skillet. I assured the sales lady that indeed there are people skilled enough to saute using an omelet pan; Julia Child isn't the only one to master that technique. Not only was she skeptical, but she told me I was wrong. I thought about emptying a jar of sea salt into the skillet and tossing it, saute-style, just to prove her wrong, but I thought she'd make me buy both the salt and the skillet, so I didn't. But I've added her to my enemy list. I left the store in distress, even though I did find a few little things to buy with part of my gift card. I decided to check out the Dillard's at this mall; as soon as I walked in the store, they shut the gate and trapped me inside. I found someone to let me back out into the mall; I had parked by Sears, at the opposite end of the mall. The nice man who let me out of the store told me that Sears would be closed, and I'd have to walk all the way around the mall. This was a big mall, and it was 14 degrees outside; no way I was walking all the way around. I found a corridor with a bathroom and an exit sign. I went through the door and ended up in a spooky room filled with machinery and hallways. Luckily the door didn't lock behind me; I high-tailed it out of there and found a proper exit, where I only had to walk halfway around Sears to find my car.

The drive home was a bit distressing too; I've driven that interstate and highway many, many times, but this time, nothing looked familiar. I kept checking that I was on the right road, heading in the right direction; everything checked out, but I didn't remember crossing a narrow bridge, or choosing which path to take in a fork in the road, or being on a curvy overpass. Seriously, I started wondering if I could be in some sort of alternate universe, where the signs are the same, but the views are different. Before letting myself continue too far on that train of thought, I decided it much more likely that the windshield of my Acura lets in a different view than the windshield of my Camry. Or maybe I was experiencing jamais vu, the experience of being unfamiliar with a situation that is actually very familiar (the opposite of deja vu). I prefer the windshield theory to a memory disorder; it's much less distressing.

Getting to Know All About You: Tell me something that distresses you.