By nature I tend to lean towards the less stressful angle. “Lazy” is what my better half proclaims, but she also proclaims world peace and an end to wide collars and look where we’re at on those fronts. So “less stress” it is. The route (root, as we say in Canada) to less stress is… naturally… less work. “Procrastination” old what’s-her-name would say. Potato, potahto.  Oh… by the way. I discovered if you let potatoes boil for 2 hours they pretty much mash themselves.  Procrastinate? I think not. Now true procrastination usually yields nothing but greater stress as all the “to do” items pile up. I work under the “Non Feloneous Rules of Etiquette”  which allows me to eject one item from the To Do list every day and re-insert it at the top of the list with a new expiry date. No penalty. Sweet, huh? That way I can wait for the easiest task to work it’s way back to the top of the list and execute it. Strike it off the list and let the endorphins kick in.

Most people would agree that grocery shopping is pretty stress free. So the second or third time around the “List” I usually hop in the car and head off. Half way there I turn around and head back home. You need a quarter to purloin a cart at my farourite food fest and I normally forget one. Not today. Only half way there, this time. Once inside the store my heart rate slows to about 60 BPM as I take in the soothing sounds of Burton Cummings, ELO, The Who?, and all the incredible groups of the 70s and 80s. I wheel my cart around smoothly, deftly picking up all the items on the list I left on the kitchen counter.

But on the last trip to the grocery store something occurred that really got me thinking. As I quietly glided around the corner near the cheese strings, right across from the yoghurt (you know, the stuff that has enough bacteria in it to start or end all plagues… ever. But it’s good for you. WHAT?!?!) I came upon another gentleman who was attempting to navigate the same corner. The opposite way. Right where I wanted to go, he was there.  “WHEN TURNING A CORNER, RIGHT TURN STAYS TO THE INSIDE, LEFT TURN TO THE OUTSIDE!!!!” I  raged (in my inside voice.) My outside voice laughed hysterically and spouted “Ooops, sorry bout that. I was fantasizing about the Twinkies I just passed… right over there… and they’re on sale. Trial offer. Get a free Twinkie today. Then you’re hooked for LIFE!! Greedy, seedy, slinky, steaming pile of pooh BASTARDS!!! Heh, heh. Sorry. Didn’t mean to almost hit you.” And I backed up a bit and he backed up a bit, and we went our merry way, all smiley and “Have a nice day.” and whatnot.  So I got to thinking (like I do when I’m not stressed.) What causes road rage? I thought it was the whole four wheel thing. You never see bicyclists wailing on each other. It’s always the four wheelers that get all snarly and stuff. But look here!! Grocery carts have four wheels but a near catastrophe was averted in aisle 10 by some witty banter and a smile and a nod (which all Monty Python fans will know is as good as a wink to a blind man.) So the solution is obvious.