You know you've got a good job when you can buy $6 cheese

Tonight, after quality screen time with Amy seeing "Rachel Getting Married", we stopped in at a local grocery store on the way home.

Rainbows of multi-colored fruits and vegetables ushered me in to where bite sized crackers and hummice begged to be eaten, at 10:30pm. Ah, New York. The City doesn't sleep, and neither do the samples.

I zig-zagged through the unfamiliar aisles in a child like race to see who would find the Milk first (pronounced "melk", cause I'm a Californian), snatched up 1/2 a gallon of 2% and bee-lined it to the "cover your nipples it's so cold" section with a one track mind: Cookie Dough.

I have a theory, and personal policy, that Cookie Dough should not be cooked. Why ruin a perfectly good batch of sugary, buttery, often chocolately goodness? Why put this little log's "life" at risk inside an inferno with no guarantees of a delicious return? No thanks. I'm good at baking, but baking cookies is not for me. It's all dough, all the time.

As we prepare to leave I realize I'm in need of cheese. Arms over chest, I make my way back to the now-familiar cold foods section, grab a brick of Sharp Cheddar and re-amble towards the check out stands. I quickly glance down at my recent score--2 Diet Boyland's sodas (only because they were out of the real stuff, because of course I don't do "diet" either), 1/2 a gallon of milk, Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough, and Cracker Barrel Cheese. What stood out the most was the small white rectangle stuck to the top of the cheese. It boldly read: $6.09.

If my Mother were here her eyes would be bulging in shock. Not only at the price, but at the buyer. If my BFF/cousin were here she'd be giving me the thumbs up and a proud nod of approval at my new and not-so-frugal ways. And if I were here, a me from the past teleported briefly to the future, I'd dance excitedly at this promising glimpse of "wealth" to come, throw up some high fives, and likely wonder how on earth I ever willingly went blonde.

Hair color aside, under flourescent lights and surrounded by perishables, it only took one second for the personal success I've worked so hard for to settle in to one simple definition: $6 cheese with no second thoughts.