The endless nightmare of suburbia sprawls out in front of you. There is no end to Sloppy Eater. Even after acquiring the meat that you came to the store for, the endless nature of the consumerist hellscape we have constructed for ourselves continues to repeat itself.

Sure, you may buy the food you need from the store. But you always return. It will always be, in some ways, a socially draining experience. You constantly need to find some way to combat the thoughts and anxieties racing through your head, because they will continue to pile up and crush you. The horrors of the mundane see you as fundamentally different. You get looks and strange remarks thrown at you.

You are fundamentally othered for who you are. Being a trans woman is like being a vampire in a supermarket. It's an arresting and isolating experience. We are judged by all who would be our peers.