September 8, 2001
11:45pm

This afternoon I found myself in the grocery store, studiously examining cereal prices and wondering exactly what my local Giant Eagle has against Capn' Crunch Peanut Butter Crunch. Because of its constant absence from their shelves I've had to go two weeks without its peanut buttery goodness. Yet, all other forms of Capn' Crunch are conspicuously present. I sense a conspiracy afoot.

I was still lost in a cereal stupor when a cute little boy wandered into the aisle. (Well, he wasn't really little. He looked about 9 or 10. It was hard to tell. Boys grow so much slower than girls.) He also perused the lack of cereal choices (I mean honestly; NO Peanut Butter Crunch?), then turned and looked at me.

"Hi," he said.

"Umm, hello," said I. He turned back to the cereal again.

Children make me uncomfortable. It's not anything they do, per se; it's just that almost everytime I'm in their presence I've been put in charge of them. Babysitting terrifies me, especially when infants are involved. They can't talk. They just cry and cry and cry some more. I can't tell if they're hungry, sick and dying, or just have an annoying clothing tag sticking them in the back. Putting me in charge of another life seems an utterly ridiculous idea to me. I can't even take care of myself properly. I only have the appearance of a responsible adult.

"I don't like these fancy cereals they have out now," he said, casting his serious brown eyes in my direction. He appeared to have come to this grave conclusion after much thought.

"Is that so?" I asked.

"Yeah. I mean look at this," he said as he waved an irreverent hand toward some new flavor," I mean, what is that? I like Maple Syrup and Cinnamon. It's yummy."

I have never had Maple Syrup and Cinnamon, but I conceded to his opinion. It did sound yummy.

We talked a while longer about cereal, then considered the pros and cons of Tropical Fruit flavored Fruit Roll Ups. I was once again out of my league because I haven't had Fruit Roll Ups since I was a kid and I don't think that flavor existed then.

After the boy confided that he'd just come from Ponderosa and his stomach hurt, I began nervously glancing around. If the kid's parents did come down the aisle I didn't want them thinking I was some pervert trying to lure their son away. However, soon all my cereal selections were made and I headed towards the checkout line. The boy went further down the aisle to examine more of the cereal selection.

My mind wandered as I was being rung up by the nice black woman who likes to call everyone "sugar." I wondered what in the world made the boy want to talk to me. Perhaps I seemed to have as deep an interest in cereal as he did. (It is my favorite food, after all.) It was a nice conversation, though. I'm glad I had it.

The girl the next line over got the Cocoa Wheats song stuck in my head. I spent half the day singing, "Cocoa Wheats, Cocoa Wheats, can't be beat..."

Some time later I managed to find a successful homework diversion in the form of e-mail. I recieved some mail from my friend Nick, and it was disgustingly happy. Reading it literally made me sick to my stomach.

I hate being unhappy when others are happy. I want to be truly happy for them, but I have yet to find a way to make myself feel things I don't (though at times I can be quite proficient at faking it). The news he bought didn't make me feel any better. Apparently my friend Julie has been recruited to play pro basketball in Israel. ISRAEL? Does anyone actually watch basketball in Israel? Tomorrow is her last day in the United States. I'll miss her.

I sure have been in a funk lately. I hope it lifts soon. I'm sure you guys don't want to hear how depressed I am all the time. Something must be wrong, though. I came home and slept, listessly watched cartoons, slept some more, then fed my Stouffer's French Bread Pizza addiction. I've been buying DVDs like a madwoman (I'm up to 15 now). I'm listening to my Ella Fitzgerald CD right now, which is part of my unofficial "comfort music" selection. All signs point to diversionary tactics...but diversion from what?