Shopgirl

I haven't done much this past week. I solved a couple of dozen sudoku puzzles. Made a pillowcase out of an old t-shirt. Sent out my first job application to a job I'm not sure I want but I better get. Other than those sad details, cannot recall much of my week. Should have done more readings, transcribings, and laundry, as well as hang out and work out more, but failed to do all of them.

Oh. Mother and I also spent $146 on groceries. I'm pretty sure we just went grocery shopping last week, but we were in Chinatown and couldn't help ourselves. Mostly her. I just bought junk food not available elsewhere (or at cheaper prices than the local Asian grocer), like Men's Pocky and Grill-a-Corn. In Asian supermarkets, all my beliefs about buying local, buying fresh, and buying in season get tossed. I don't care how much my food has travelled and the pollutions they've caused, I don't want to know about the working conditions of the people that made them, or even the conditions of those that work in the supermarket and I try really hard not to care how fishy the supermarket smells (it smells of actual fish): they have those Japanese chocolate-filled crackers in the shape of Koala bears and those remind me of my years in the Sri Lankan textiles industry.

My only consolation for the ridiculous amount we spent on food was this adorable old couple. They both had heads of white hair and progressed slowly through the aisles at about the same rate as Mother, always consulting each other and deliberate about their choices. They left with three carts of food versus our one filled-to-the-brims cart. When the cashiers teased them, the old man explained that they hadn't been in Chinatown in a long time. They live all the way out in Concord and don't often make the trip. To all the astonishment over why he bought so much food, he smartly quipped: "Now I can open my own shop back home."