Floating Obliviates

I don't always know what I want. But once I settle on something, I want to get there and get it done. It's a curse...

Waiting for a parking space...man and wife exit the store, open their trunk, load their stuff, get in the car...and sit. Put the damn key in the ignition, turn it, slide the shifter into reverse and move.

Walking down the hall...I'm walking down the hall because...you guessed it... I have somewhere to go. But no. I can't get there because three women, failing to adhere to the universal (American) law of stay to the right, spread across the 12 foot aisle and saunter along, yacking like a flock of old hens. Don't try to pass on the left, the left most hen will sway into your path blocking your passing lane, veer to the right? Nice try, the right most hen will do the same. If you are walking down the hall, at least, pretend like you have somewhere to go.

Shopping...I go to the store to get stuff, right? I have a pretty good idea of what I need, and unless the store has rearranged itself, like it is wont to do, since the last time I forced myself to go shopping, I know where it all is. But NO! Aisles are packed with Floating Obliviates, veering back and forth across the aisle in a dazed stupor, as if they accidentally found themselves in this retail establishment and are still wandering (and wondering) what it is they are there for.