Old people are wack sometimes

Yesterday I skipped class because I am sick. Sick enough to feel very miserable and not be able to breathe through the proper holes, but not sick enough that Clinic will fork over some antibiotics. Been there, done that. So I'm made to suffer.

Monday was really terrible, a sinus headache coupled with a stuffy-but-constantly-dripping nose which equals miserable. And a blaring case of Rudolph Nose Syndrome from trying to relieve the intense pressure in my face via excessive nose blowing. Not to mention that this is the first real sickness I've had since getting my nose pierced in July. Excessive nose honking does not make nose piercings very happy.

Having woken up every two hours or so Monday night to blow my nose/lie there unable to breathe properly, I was in no mood to attend classes on Tuesday. Plus, it was snowing really hard and walking 30 minutes to class in a snowstorm is thrilling but bone-jarringly cold. I'm miserable enough being sick, kay thanks. After having rifled through my medicine box on Monday, I did not have enough Mucinex to last me through the week. Plus, there was a giant Blizzard of Death headed straight for Prestigious University and slated to hit today. Having learned my lesson about trying to drive Penelope in snow the hard way (via towtruck), I am in no way going to tempt fate and do that shit again. I decide to brave the 4 or so inches of freshly fallen snow and go to Wegmans, the Mecca of all grocery stores, before the real Snowtorious-B-I-G hit today and I didn't stand a chance.

It took me 45 minutes to dig Penelope out of her parking spot. This included the time I took to clear out the entranceway to my parking lot, since the rental company (though very good about most things) is terrible at plowing there. It's an incline, and I've gotten stuck in the snow there before. I do nothing if not learn my lessons.

Anyway, I get to Wegmans. It took some searching--damn those Mucinex boxes blend in well--but I finally get what I need. My haul includes: Tang mix, Halls cough drops, a tub of Vicks, and Mucinex. I get in the 10 Items or Less (they really should use "fewer" in these instances) line.

Now, I'm a nosy person by nature, but some things you can't help but notice. Like the fact that the older gentleman in front of my was buying a National Inquirer and a gazillion quarts of milk. The total is later found to be 48 individual quarts of milk (I heard the check out guy say it). This kind of stuff just stuns your brain a little bit. I mean, you really have to wonder what this guy is doing with this stuff. But really, I should probably not judge too harshly. What if he just really likes milk? Old people need lots of calcium, right? Osteoporosis and all that jazz. Or what if his wife bakes cookies to excess and his grandkids (he looked kind of grandfatherly) just really crave milk after a good cookie omnomnom? Or maybe he's a Crazy Cat Man (though in reality, milk is not good for cats)? No, I've bought too much weird stuff (the Totally Oompah LP comes to mind) to judge too harshly.

What I'm really judging this guy for is the National Inquirer. I had no idea people actually read that kind of literary garbage. I take People magazine with a grain of salt, Fox News with a tub of salt, and the National Inquirer is like going scuba diving in a salt mine. I've never read one mind you, but you don't even have to read them to know that they're a crock of BS. One look at the cover stories--Apocalypse Coming Next Tuesday! Jesus Had a Twin Sister! Terrorists Hiding in Great Pyramids! Dinosaurs Used Cutlery!--and you'd have to be more than a few crayons short of the box to actually believe anything this magazine had to say.

The best part of this is probably that the check out guy wasn't even phased by this odd conglomeration of stuff. Apparently people buy weird bunches of stuff from The Weg all the time.