I can hear myself narrate as life becomes my vantage point and a bunch of over accentuated sounds around me. The camera follows as I make my way up and down the isles, watching me and the people around me. My hair is a mess and my clothes are dirty. I am haggard from hanging out with a two-year-old all day. In my basket I have bananas, yogurt, Draino and Diet Pepsi.
"I can see why people kill themselves at Christmas."
A couple walks by, laughing. I get self-conscious and wonder if they're laughing at me. True, my Friday night plans consist of going home to indulge in a glass of wine and try to unclog the drain in my bath tub that has been clogged for a good week now. But, in all fairness, I have to work in the morning.
Step, step, step. Nobody even looks at me. Except maybe the couple who may or may not be laughing at me.
"I don't want to kill myself, but I can see why people do it. -- For the breeders, this is the time of year that they get to flaunt their children; 'hey world, look at me, I made a baby. barf.' They send out photos of their children, dressed in frilly dresses or little suits, sitting on Santa's lap or enjoying some other kind of festive activity. The lovers, they're no different. Instead of flaunting kids though, they flaunt how much they're in love. These are the people who spend the holidays bragging about what they've bought for for their boyfriend or girlfriend and about the family-filled plans they have. It's a pissing contest, really, with money and things just to show how tangible their love is. The more extravagant the gift, the more you love someone or are loved. And then there are the singles who overcompensate by giving back. They do this partially because it gives them a purpose, and partially because it eases the loneliness of the holidays. These are good people driven by the fundamental human need to be needed...Then there are the people like me. I used to be the lover and the single (never the breeder, thank god.) Now, I'm just tired. I don't fit into any of those categories..."
I begin to stack the Draino, Diet Pepsi, yogurt and bananas onto the conveyer belt cash register. Holly-Jolly Christmas is playing over the PA system and the camera pans to all the of the customers who seem to have some place to go.
"Is that everything for you?" Asks the cashier.
"Yes, thank you."
"That'll be $19.41. Debit? Swipe with the stripe facing out."
Anyway, you get my drift. I'm probably far less interesting than I like to imagine, but whatever. If my life was an indie film something interesting or strange would happen after that. However, in real life I just went home, drank wine and blogged while checking back with Facebook.