I hate loving the grocery store. I used to end up a Deer in the Headlights. Wandering aimlessly up and down the aisles in tears; trying to decide if it was worth it to spend an extra three dollars on Tide today but save in the long run. Now I see the grocery store as a source of potential comfort. I graduated from panic-stricken hours laboring over a 12-pack of American Cheese. I graduated to getting a basket and hitting the check-out line when the basket was full. And I’m proud to say that I’ve completed my journey towards normal adult food consumption. Now, I get a cart. I get a cart and I don’t even fill it. My shopping is smart and fun and a full fridge means I don’t have to do fast food math and wake up hating myself and Dave Thomas.