Everyday, I walk by the gas station on the corner of 8th and Downing. I always kind of fantasize what it looks like in there.
So this morning, I decided I was going to put my money where my mouth was. Literally.
See, I’ve been sick the last few days. I caught a cold on Sunday and have been struggling with it. It’s tough to do any sort of exercise when you can’t breathe out of your nose.
So I’ve been breathing out of my mouth, like some sort of…mouth-breather.
Anyway, my lips are super chapped now. (Side note: I went to lunch with an old friend today. She was staring at my lips. “I’ve been sick,” I told her. I don’t think she was convinced.)
So I decided to stop in the aforementioned gas station to get some chap stick.
Only there was no chap stick.
There wasn’t much of anything. There were about 40 varieties of chips. About half that many varieties of cigarettes.
And that was it.
So my lips are still chapped. But at least I know what the inside of that gas station looks like now.
