Every trip to the grocery store feels like qualifying for the Olympics, except nobody trained for it and the prize is spending $147 on things you swear weren’t in your cart five minutes ago.

The first event is finding a shopping cart that doesn’t sound like it’s dragging an anchor. There’s always one wheel that has completely given up on life, forcing you to steer sideways through every aisle like you’re parking a boat.

Then comes the produce section, where everyone suddenly becomes a fruit expert. We all knock on watermelons as if we’ve spent years studying watermelon acoustics. Nobody really knows what we’re listening for, but if someone nearby nods approvingly, we feel like we’ve passed the test.

The cereal aisle is another adventure. There are approximately 4,000 choices, yet somehow you leave with the exact same box you’ve been buying since college. Apparently, we’re adventurous enough to try a new streaming service but not a different breakfast cereal.

The checkout line is where true character is revealed. You always pick the shortest line, which immediately transforms into the slowest line in human history. The customer ahead of you suddenly remembers they have seventeen coupons, a rewards card they can’t find, and an intense desire to write a personal check in the year 2026.

Finally, you load everything into the car, drive home, unpack the bags, and realize you forgot the one thing you actually went there to buy.

Congratulations. You’ve completed another grocery store marathon.

See you tomorrow… because somehow we’re already out of milk again.