It's a jungle out there. Searching for egg nog a gal could get injured. But the road rage doesn't seem to translate to the stores. The checker at Trader Joe's was extra nice, and complimented me on my bagging. I know he was not sincere, since the bags were clunking and some heavy as a cement mixer and others light, but what he meant was: I gave him a little break from bagging. Another employee explained that they'd run out of egg nog, and always did by now. My right speech was refraining from asking sarcastically why they didn't order more, instead of let us fruitlessly search the store for a Christmastime staple. At least I found the rum.
At the next grocery, where they had egg nog, the owner helped me find the cheapest limoncello, which I need for the trifle. He apologized that I had to buy a whole big bottle for a few dashes in the trifle. I said I hoped it tasted good, as we'd have a whole lot left over. People were mellow, and they helped me find everything I needed that Trader Joe did not possess.
Next I ran into my good friend, with whom we will be for Christmas day. She thanked me for my thankyou card that referred to a gigantic box of cookies brought for my party. They didn't actually bring them, so the cookies are a mystery gift. Oh, well, someday perhaps I'll be able to thank the right person. Anyway, we had a nice chat, and the sun is out, and all's right with the world as long as you don't get in a car.
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