Day 2:: Up In Flames

Day 2 is up in flames. I've fallen off the wagon without being on the wagon. But I have a disclaimer.

I was rushing home for dinner, went to the supermarket after picking up some wine, slipped over on the supermarket floor, hurt my hands and knees, got the milk, felt teary, went to the register where I had to listen to the checkout chick rave on and on about banana chillis, and how she couldn't scan them, and then re-scan them, oh and then scan them again. I just wanted to get home, the woman in front of me told me my wine was leaking, I said, yes I know, look down, I'm covered in wine - there's a puddle of wine. Take the wine bottle over to the bin, just as it explodes all over me, walk back to the register to get the milk - but go past customer service to ask them if they could clean up the mess, burst into tears, stand at the register while this check out chick is still banging on about bananas chillis and the fact that she's been sneezing and coughing. I'm covered in wine. I'm blubbering at the counter. And all she can say is: "Do you want a bag?" Well of course I want a damn bag, there's clearly too much to carry.

Pay. Leave. Hurt.

But this man has 82 Julia Roberts tattoos. That's something. Right?