I appear to be somewhat overly-dramatic whenever I run out of some type of food in my house. Just this morning I was like "Well, that's it for butter! I'm out of fucking butter, so that's that! No more butter!"
Of course, I can take 100 steps in any direction outside my door and buy all the butter I want. It's not like I have to say "well, we're out of butter until later on this month when Pa goes into town to the mercantile."
Sigh. Me. I'm really happening, aren't I?
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