A week or so ago I spent, I dunno, ten bucks? On thirty caplets of some woo-woo pharmacuetical that my mother said would help with depression.
Hasn’t worked; I’m at the bottom of a bottle of a bottle of Boones Farm fake Sangria, supposed to be celebratory, now I feel like crap.
Gotta learn to stop drinking when I hit that happy place. Supposed to be a special occasion.