Fuck you HEB

So you know when you go to the store in your white curlers that make you look like white trash? And you think "I already look like Buckwheat so why should I change out of my super short jean skirt I wear to clean the house and that white tank top with the sweat stains? Cause I spent twenty minutes fixing my hairdo for my kids party tomorrow so my hair would look good to meet my ex husbands new 27 year old girlfriend for the first time in nine months so Fuck You HEB? I'm going to rock this white trash thing."

And then you drag your toddler there because you promised to make her a chocolate cake from scratch with pink rose all over it-which you can sculpt out of fondant because when you went to a 40,000 dollar a year art school in Manhattan you thought-"Wow-I could be doing installations with Matthew Barney and Damien Hirst!

- OR -

I could just quietly move to Texas, quit painting and hang with my student loans while I sculpt freakishly realistic ballerinas and roses out of colored sugar for toddlers who aren't going to notice and their parents who don't give a shit?

You know that feeling?

Then you drag your child into the store and she's freaking out because she didn't get a nap so she won't sit in the cart-but she won't walk either- and you think "when does the logic part of her brain develop?" and people stare at you because you are not only wearing a short jean skirt and trailer park curlers but you have to wear your dark prescription sunglasses since you lost your 'real' glasses and your child is screaming and you can feel their stress being jacked up as they stare at you thinking-"Jesus get that out of the store Buckwheat?"

But you don't because you think "I am going to make that God Damn cake because you love your daughter dearly-its her first ballerina recital party- and you NEED to show up the 27 year old girlfriend even though she isn't as hot as you are and she works at Petco and-How can you be so petty?

"I WILL make that cake."you think
- Fuck you HEB. I went to art school." So even though your child keeps sitting down in the aisle and blocking people's carts you go ahead and get the cake mix and the powdered sugar anyway? Even though she is now screaming "I hope you get hit by a car!" while you calmly tell her she's going to get put in jail if she doesn't STAND THE FUCK UP and go with you to the check out line?

Then you catch a glimpse of yourself in the 2 way theft-mirror and you look like a haggard woman who either blows truckers for cases of Mountain dew or wrestles gators for fun and so you go ahead and put the Lil Debbies snack cakes and the Tab and the cans of 'store bought' icing in the cart because-

Fuck You HEB.

At the check out counter you look at your phone because even though you arent dating anymore you are still going to make friends with those Match.com men you have accrued and you see that at precisely the time your toddler was screaming that she would NEVER get in the cart and you were yelling I LOVE YOU BUT YOU ARE KILLING ME! GET IN THE CART! your phone DIALED ONE OF THEM ON ITS OWN- one of them who doesn't know you that well.

"Oh well," you thought."Good thing I'm not 'dating' anymore." But that still kind of sucks.

And why does your phone keep fucking up your life anyway? The phone hates you, your toddler wishes you would get hit by a car and you can't even distract yourself by going on dates because you've decided you're too crazy for the men anyway.

Then you see a guy walk by and you think "That guy is REALLY hot." but a few seconds later you realize he is one of those mildly retarded people they hire at HEB to bag groceries and you think "What is WRONG with me?" and vow to get some 'real' glasses-

_ finally you realize that this trip to the store has gone so far south it's not salvagable unless you do something funny so you tell your screaming toddler to -

"Hush up now Pearline cuz Momma's gotta get home and feed yer brother. He's probly sittin in the yard by now eatin dirt cuz your Granny can't watch him right no more since she got on disability." as loud as you can so the woman with the Louis Vuitton purse behind you can stare a little bit more obviously at your curlers.

Then you open your Lil Debbie snack cakes (called Zebra Cakes by the way) and take a huge bite, giving the rest to your daughter who Thank God stops her screaming fit just in time to check out.

"Can I have that Dora movie?" she asks.

"Nope. Caint get that with the food stamps." you say, eyeing Louis Vuitton.

And you split.

And after night night time-since tonight is not a White Wine night even though it's May since you have your daughter you eat the whole can of "store bought " icing and watch Harold and Maude for the 800th time?

"I have had this movie for two weeks. I now have 40 dollars in late fees at Vulcan Video. Why didn't I just buy it for 8.99 on Amazon? Then I could invite that retarded guy over here and he would watch it with me every night because clearly--

1. He won't notcie how weird I am.

2) Like me, he is probably a goldfish in a bowl-swimming around each day -going wow! This looks new! Haven't seen this before! Wow! which makes him highly compatible with me. Except that he has an excuse and I don't.

3) He really WAS hot. Sorry.

You don't know that feeling?
No, I thought not.