I had an anxiety attack at the grocery store.

A full-blown panic attack: chest tight, can’t breathe, I’m going to die, run for your life, panic attack...and not because the prices were high or the tomatoes too ripe.

It started when I decided since I’d awakened early, I would go to the grocery store so I still had the whole day ahead of me to lie around, watch reruns of Bones, and eat mini-candy bars. A solid plan.

I walked through the grocery store door at 8 a.m. got a cart and my world exploded. The store floors were stacked with boxes in varying stages of restocking. There were few shoppers and even fewer employees…all very unhappy. I tried to push my cart up the produce aisle; it didn’t fit so I stepped over open boxes with food spilling out to get to the lettuce. Before reaching the lettuce I heard a crunch under my foot and discovered I had stepped on an entire family of asparagus.  Every little head smushed to smitherings.

My chest tightened and I ran for my cart. I next tried the meat counter where again boxes were everywhere and I couldn’t get near the meat. I was forced to begin the climb to feed my family.  The boxes were stacked four feet high. One foot after the other I made my way up and over, until one foot began to slip. I grabbed the edge of the top box and held on thinking about George and his need for a Rib-eye.

My successful hunt for meat over, I started hyperventilating when the next three aisles looked like an earthquake had hit. Passage was literally impossible. Cut-up boxes were everywhere. It was a massacre. I left my cart, and ran for the door. I could hear the granola bars spilled on the floor cheering on my escape.

Once outside I took a deep breath, then went to the other large grocery store where I was greeted by two employees wishing me a good morning and asking if they could help me. The aisles were clear. The prices ridiculously high. I didn’t care. I could breathe, my head wasn’t going to explode and celery wasn’t stalking me.

I’m still having nightmares about the first store. Last night I was chased all over the store by cardboard monsters with cantaloupes for heads, throwing pickles at me. I stopped at the pharmacy for help and the pharmacist was a giant colostomy bag with tampons for fingers. I don’t care how much Valium was tucked in those tampon hands; I’m never shopping there again.