Today I’m grocery shopping.
I greet store employees, occassionally exchanging small talk (the beer guys know my likes and dislikes).
I sing and dance to the muzak. It’s often songs from the 60s-80s.
I practice single leg balances while in line for a cashier.
I greet my cashier by name, occasionally commenting on something about the day. It’s a pleasant moment.
I make it a point to address the person who bags my groceries by name. I ask them to please bag my groceries a certain way (heavy bags, like with like if possible). I thank them at the end with their name.
I tell them all to have a good week until I see them again.
My grocery shopping time is like burping sunshine and glitter all over the store. But nobody is called to aisle 13A to clean that shit up.