The other day, I hit the grocery store seeking "bits of seafood" to add to a pasta salad. I was looking for a theme, some sort of common denominator as a last ditch effort to salute my dying OCD. That's right, I'm erring toward the side of normal these days. Nick even said last night in regards to my claims of OCD that it was only a disorder I thought I had. And, spanning the totality of my time on Earth, my bank of acquaintances are spitting in derision, wishing this had always been so. I'm mellowing in my old age.

So, naturally, I wandered toward the mock crab. I love mock crab. Better than the real stuff, actually...does that make me cheap? Well, so be it. You see, with the real stuff, there are variances in the flavor from crab to crab. Mock crab is chemically engineered to taste like good crab time and time again. Mmmm...chemicals. Romanced by the fakery, I reached for the package of mock lobster as well.

Forgive the pun, but it was all going swimingly at this point...until I sought the third bit of seafood I so dearly wanted to add, the shrimp. I met disappointment. I looked high and low, mostly low I suppose, and my pace quickened as I walked the line of freezers. At length, and with great hesitation, I made my selection and sulked all the way to the checkout line. My head hung low, I swiped my debit card and quit the store.

I was forced to use real shrimp, and I've never felt so base.