Writing Interrupted

stockvault-hypermarket157143The grocery store looms today.

While by definition grocery stores rarely “loom” (after all, “Let’s go Krogering” was not meant as a threat), toss in a nifty panic disorder into your brain and a cotton-ball takes on a sinister air.

These are the days of utter embarrassment. Mentally cowering at the thought of the potato chip aisle would be laughable if it wasn’t just so darn sad.

While I am miles and miles better than I used to be (medication will do that to you), I am still so far from normal that it sucks. I feel like a hermit being forced to come down off his mountain for supplies, while the whole produce section gawks at me, wondering if I’m that yeti they’ve heard tales about…

*slaps self in face, leaving a nice mark for the canned fruit aisle to whisper about*

Ok.

Enough of the complaining.

Time to get my crap together and go get peanut butter.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

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