My therapist told me that I should get on with the day to day things and deal with each situation as a single event, minimizing the life wreckery of it all. Thanks, doc, easy to say isn't it? Small bites of life are easier to chew. Easier until you step off the edge of the plate and fall right into the stew pot. Then what? So, here I am in the grocery store staring at this fucking moose and wondering what the fuck it all means. Bruce gets it, he's two dimensional. He has a purpose, a reason stand there. What am I doing? I have to walk away. Bruce, my man, what have you done?



Someone has an existential crisis involving grocery mascot Bruce, the Produce Moose.