I like to think of myself as smart. And capable. I was a nerd in high school. I went to college. I have an MBA. I grew up on a farm. I can change a tire, drive a tractor, and swing a hammer. And yet, I am totally slayed by a trip to the grocery store. I make a list. I try to organize it. I try to have a plan. And yet, it is almost guaranteed that I’ll break out in a cold sweat at some point during the shopping trip. And I’ll want to rock back and forth in a corner by the time I am finished. I definitely have a problem. And the problem’s name is “my husband.”
When we got married more than six years ago, hubs and I tried to set up a division of labor that minimized our exposure to “chores we hate the most.” I hate lugging laundry baskets up and down the stairs. He hates folding laundry. Divide and conquer. I hate going to the grocery store. He loves it. Guess who is supposed to do that chore? We both enjoy cooking and for the first few years of our marriage, we divided that semi-equally. Until I went to graduate school. Then hubs cooked and I sulked and studied. Fast forward four years and guess who is in graduate school now? That’s right. Not me. Guess who is studying? And guess who is shopping and sulking and cooking? Yep, Cinder-!@#$ing-ella. Being not only a sulker, but also a control freak, I quickly determined that if I’m going to plan and prepare most of the meals, then I need to be doing the grocery shopping. And then I realized that OHMYGOSH do you KNOW how expensive food is these days? And so, now I’ve started clipping coupons. And using them. My goal is to save enough to buy copious amounts of wine. Or Prozac. Depending what’s on sale.
couponmom.com
You’ll never actually make it to the store…