Today, as I was headed toward home down Sunset Drive, I decided to continue on to BJ's and pick up one of their large rotisserie chickens for dinner. I called home and let J know what we were going to have.
BJ's is where we can buy whole pork loins to bring home and carve into chops and roasts; where we can buy the black ink for our printer; where they have LCD - HD televisions that I don't buy and won't until our large, old fashioned Toshiba dies the death. It is still going strong and I can't even jinx it by saying so.
Normally, someone comes along to do the heavy lifting when we make a BJ's run. How much could one chicken weigh? Well, BJ's is addictive. I spent almost two meandering hours (and slightly sprained my left wrist) horsing cases of things into the cart, then onto the moving belt, and finally into the trunk. And they weren't large cases, either.
How dumb can you be? Maybe this is my demonstration for the day. I hope so . . .
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3 comments:
Occasionally, we forget how nice it is to have a person tag along with us at BJ's to lift heavy items we are not accustomed to. We also have to remind ourselves with some pain not to arrive to the store without extra muscles of another body. Then as the months pass, I do it all over again.
Perhaps the extra muscles were away from home or otherwise occupied and couldn't make the trip? Or, perhaps the brain attached to the muscles saw the looming request to carry a heavy load and persuaded the body to ... hide!
Could be. Yeah, that could very well be.
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