I went to the grocery store twice a week and bought my staples: bran cereal, bread and butter pickle slices, fruit cocktail. I bought 3 boxes of bran cereal every time I went--6 boxes a week--24 boxes a month. Four big jars of pickles and fruit a week--16 of each a month. Should there be nuclear war or natural disaster--I would have my safe food--my control. The cereal was harder to find a place for than the pickles and fruit-- I ran out of storage space so I hid them on the side of my bed against the wall. My Aunt's husband saw them once and I overheard him tell her that my bedroom was ,''The General Mills warehouse.'' That hurt me. It shredded the microscopic amount of dignity that I felt only on occasion. The grocery store clerk asked me what I was doing with, ''All those pickles?'' ''I am making something with them!'' I would never return to her checkout line. Those sarcastic remarks and smart - ass questions are the only things the heartless and the brainless can come up with. It took me such a long time to find someone to say those important words, ''I Love You--don't do this to yourself.'' And in the end the person who finally said those words to me --was me.
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