You don’t know true sadness until:
You are in the market.
By the Valentine’s stuff (because although I am not a fan of this holiday, my girls deserve a mom who showers them with affection. No need to make them think it’s lame, too.)
Standing in a pool of vodka.
Because the bottle fell out of your cart and shattered.
Then you loudly say ‘well that’s just fucking great’…..and don’t even feel embarrassed.
Que walking away with sloshing shoes because they are pooled with liquid.
Also, I am positive I would have been assumed guilty had I been stopped on my way home. My car now smells like a super gnarly Friday night.
I need to conjure up enough desire to power through and make another stop tomorrow. It was on sale. I can’t pass it up…afterall Valentine’s Day is Wednesday and I am going to need it, to make it through.