I stood at the gas pump tonight, staring at my boots, listening to the machine tick its way through my bank account.  I leaned forward to spit, but the sudden pressure in my jaw veto’d.

I tried not to think about what it cost me to get four deeply rooted wisdom teeth pried from my head.

I tried not to think about the $80 I spent on eggs, vitamins and vegetable juice tonight.  I refused to look at the gas pump.

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