The First 30 Days (PUBLISHED)

One - Day 1

                  

 

The trail of green slime worked it's way down her face, moving steadily closer to her mouth. Like when you pass an accident on the highway and you know you don't really want to see any dead bodies, but you find yourself looking anyhow, I couldn't pull my gaze from the horror unfolding.

 

     The oblivious mother was at the other end of the cart, throwing groceries onto the belt as fast as her arms would move. Strapped into the seat, the blonde haired toddler clutched a stuffed pink elephant missing an eye, and watched me with equal fascination as I showed her. Big blue eyes lit up with curiosity when I shifted my overloaded shopping basket to my other hand.

 

     The thick snot inched closer to her upper lip. I eyed it, not sure if I should say something to the mom. Mom's don't like unsolicited advice, right? Especially from 20 year olds who've never changed a diaper in their life.

 

     My inner conflict was solved when the girl's tongue swept out and the green streak disappeared.

 

     Holding back the urge to gag, I looked anywhere but at the kid. The store was packed. Why did I always manage to come do my shopping at the busiest times? You would think I would learn not to shop on a Friday night. The lines were long, resulting in the painful wait behind the snot nosed kid I was currently experiencing.

 

     A large red sign hanging over the pharmacy advertised flu shots. Glancing back at the girl, I wondered if I should fork over the cash and get one. I never had before, but I really couldn't afford to miss any work, and the news stations were calling this year's flu an epidemic.

 

     The line wrapping around the pharmacy counter was what finally convinced me to skip the vaccine for now. I'd already suffered inside this grocery store long enough for one day. That line looked like there had to be dozens of people in it.

 

     Finally, enough room appeared on the belt for me to put my groceries up. Flexing my shoulder, I tried to rid myself of the soreness that my heavy basket had caused. Thankfully, the mother was now blocking my view of her sick daughter. After a few more minutes spent reading about the new president's policies, policies that had the country melting down, on the tabloids strategically placed at eye level, it was my turn.

 

     "Thank you for shopping with us today. Did you find everything ok?" The bored cashier mumbled as she began scanning my things. She didn't look up.

 

     "Sure, I..." I trailed off. The woman didn't actually care and wasn't really listening. Not that I blamed her. How many times a day was she forced to repeat that idiotic greeting?

 

     I swiped my card and picked up my bags, stepping into the steady flow of shoppers leaving the store. Out in the packed parking lot, I found my ten year old Honda and jumped inside. All I really wanted to do was get home, put my food away, and curl up on the couch in my comfy pajamas. Netflix was calling me.

 

     The house I shared with my roommate was only a few minutes away from the store. The short driveway barely had enough room for both of our cars. Parking carefully, I didn't want to bump her car again, I lugged the bags up the sidewalk and through the unlocked front door.