My Inner Child is Picking a Fight

Yesterday morning I got up, as usual, and went through my morning routine, as usual.

I fed and played with the dogs, as usual.

Got dressed and (relatively) put together, as usual.

Conversed with the child and husband, as usual.

Had a “buh bye” contest with the bird as I walked out the door, as usual.

I stopped at the local store to stock up on my usual breakfast roll and my usual stash of diet soda for the day.

JuiceAnd then it happened. As I was collecting my assorted cans for the day, the bottle for the drive in, the body that is attached to me said,

hmmm, we want some juice.

WTF?!

How does this body even KNOW that word …. juice?!

How the hell do I, the body that houses this apparent stranger, buy juice?

Have you looked in the refrigerated section of convenience stores? I mean, sure, I have, just that one corner where the Diet Coke is, anyway. Oh, and occasionally the area where they have milk, but never at this hour of day, usually only only at the end of the day as I stop to pick up some on the way home for the family.

I stood there in utter awe, much as I imagine an explorer stood atop a newly discovered peak, or a small infant discovering her fingers for the first time. Three people bumped into me as I stood unmoved, wide-eyed, staring at the varying colors of bottles and labels touting skinny water, nutritional liquid caffeine, and mixed bottles of avocado, banana, and I think egg shells.

How does one select juice? I seem to recall back when I was younger that juice was either grape or apple. Neither was appealing to me. Apple juice smells like stinky babies to me, so I can’t have that. Grape juice makes my teeth sound like nails on a chalk board, which was horrible, but the idea of avocado egg shells sounded more like paint than some sort of ingestible.

I saw something red and saw the word berries. It reminded me of cherry lifesavers, so I grabbed that one and went to check out. The clerk was stunned to see something different in my stash that morning and went to comment on it, but must have seen or heard the internal argument that was going on inside myself and decided it was better to remain silent.

Juiiiiiiiiice….

…the yippy little wide awake voice inside of me was happily singing. I have no idea who that inner bat-shit crazy child is. I shoved the bottle in the mouth to shut it up, and it happily sipped back the fruity, smooth liquid and quieted down.

The day went on, as usual.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This morning I got up, as usual. As I was heading down the stairs to go feed and play with the dogs, as usual, a voice inside started humming. By the time I got outside it was happily singing ….

Juiiiiiiice ….

Oh for shit’s sake, is this going to be a regular thing now? Who the F is this person? If this bitch wants a salad we’re gonna fight!

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About Laurissa Doonan

I'm a marketer. I've been a professional marketer for over 25 years, but in reality, I have always been one. Marketing to me is about communicating effectively, regardless of platform, regardless of channel. Marketing is understanding both your objectives and your audience, and finding the right method and message for your customers to reach them where they are. Now I dedicate my efforts to helping very small and small companies pursue their passions and grow their businesses through marketing; providing agency trained expertise without the overhead. www.Charter-Marketing.com www.CharterMarketing.wordpress.com
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One Response to My Inner Child is Picking a Fight

  1. Vinny Grette says:

    I just don’t buy juice! But it’s sure better than diet drinks. I like green tea :). Then again, I’m pretty old…

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