Some of you may find yourselves wondering why, as someone reasonably intelligent and with a better than minimum wage job, I get so much of the food I eat at gas stations. At this point the reason is simple: they scare me.
I could, and have, so easily pick(ed) up a bottle of whiskey on the pretense of going to the store for pasta salad. It’s not that I seek out the liquor aisle so much as I see it everywhere.
I miss being dry. Not only was I not drinking but I wasn’t hypersensitive to alcohol’s existence. Now I trend towards sober and someone can walk by me and I know what they’ve been up to. Or at least an overactive imagination has me thinking I know.
Moral of the story: I miss being able to get pasta salad from the grocery store.