People, I’m about to confess something that is probably going to drop my cool rating by at least 10%. The sad thing about that is that I’m really not that cool in the first place. Friendly. Outgoing. Caring. Charming, from time to time. Encouraging, for the most part. But cool? I don’t think so. I have grocery store issues. We are getting a pretty good dose of winter precip (slang for stuff falling from the sky) right now here in Oklahoma. I haven’t left my house today. Oh heck, I haven’t even taken my pajamas off that I slept in last night. But, I did get to the grocery store EARLY Saturday morning before, according to News Channel 4, the Winter Blast hit. Click here to check out our forecast. Brrr. My biggest grocery store issue really doesn’t have to do with the grocery store. It’s me. All me. When I go to place my items on the black running belt thingie, I put them into categories. I put all the cans together, all the produce together, all the boxes together and all of the cold items together. It’s my little cue to say, “Hey, would you please organize my groceries?” Sounds reasonable, right? Well, the bagger dude must not have understood my intent. Let me explain. I got home from the store by 8:05 a.m. (thank you very much) and my three men were still asleep. As I began to unpack the bags, there it was. The cubed steak I bought was in the same bag as the produce. Gasp. You have got to be kiddin’ me. I nearly had a panic attack. For cryin’ outloud, help a sister out. Cold with cold. Cans with cans. Produce with produce. That’s the way it should be. Right? Right? Not only that, but did I mention that I have my grocery list on an Excel spreadsheet? Sure do. And I have a variety from which to choose. By store. By category. By aisle. Yes. Yes, I do. You’re thinking I’m sick. I resemble that. But at least I’m organized.