Here it is, your moment of extreme paranoia

You know that lady at the grocery store? She comes in after work, and she has on elastic waist pants that are, at best, a polyester/rayon blend, and her shoes are scuffed, and they're loafers with orthopedic soles, and her hair is dyed the exact wrong color out of a box, and you can tell she tried to put on makeup but it looks like she gave up halfway through, and she has cat hair all over her bulky brown cardigan sweater with gold basketweave pattern buttons, two colors of cat hair, and she's still wearing her ID badge from work, probably because she thinks it makes her look important, or maybe she just forgot, even though it's hanging on a handmade lanyard, and she's probably only 35 but she looks 57, and she's buying the hugest bottle of cheap white wine they sell, and one can of tomato soup, and she's just a little too friendly with the 19 year old kid bagging her groceries? You know her? More than anything in my whole life, I don't want to be that lady at the grocery store.