I hate

Yup. I approach shopping much like I would a bank robbery: I know what I want, where it is, I get in and out as quick as I can. That other people treat it as an excursion always puzzles me. Then there is that horrible moment when you go in and the bastards have re-organised the store and where pasta used to be there is now soup or deckchairs. Makes me feel like I am recovering, badly, from a head injury as I lurch around disoriented and confused. Where's the soya milk, where is the fucking soya milk? Why is it next to the toilet paper? Why? Why are you evil swine doing this to me?

+1000

Worst thing is my girlfriend is the type that needs to inspect every cartoon of milk, packet of chicken and steak for the one with the longest used by date. Fuck it drives me mad, its meat, its not off it will be eaten with 48 hours. I now try and go to the supermarket by myself as its the only way the trip doesn't take at least 10 weeks.