Today was one of my twice-monthly big-box-store experience Sundays.
I do this to save a couple bucks, because there's essential supplies there I can't get anywhere else for a decent price, and to keep from becoming a total hermit.
Plus, big box has become the prototypical American experience. The big box in the mall with massive parking lots all around in a landscape that challenges human beings to feel anything other than small and insignificant.
Today, as usual, it was Tarjay. Sometimes I'll go to Costco or Trader Joe's in addition to Target, but usually it's just the latter. Costco is so stressful I always feel like I should be wearing shinguards, elbow pads, and a bicycle helmet. Getting there, and to Trader's involves driving into the bowels of Silverdale, and driving's not my strong suit any more.
Tarjay is located on the periphery of town, and on Sunday morning shopping there is a low-intensity experience -- just what I'm looking for. Even the parking lot is mostly empty until afternoon, so I don't have to play "Ruh roh" with people going the wrong way, or going too fast, etc.
They've got just about everything there at decent prices, plus they have patches for two bucks apiece, so I need to stop there every couple of weeks anyway.
Those little patches have taught me two things: First, I don't ever have to smoke another cigarette as long as I live and it won't drive me nuts; secondly, I'm an addict for life. I'll never be free of nicotine, but that's OK 'cause I'm free of cigarettes.