Today was one of those days. Therapy with Jennifer went well—she always gets it. Afterward, I made a quick stop at O’Reilly’s, and then, for some reason I still don’t understand, I decided Cracker Barrel sounded like a good idea. Spoiler: It wasn’t. Cracker Barrel is a sensory minefield. The moment I walked in, I was hit with that thick, cloying perfume smell—like walking into a cloud of synthetic flowers and regret. The music? Loud enough to make my teeth vibrate. And the overlapping voices? It felt like I had fifty conversations shoved in my ears at once. Even with my Loop earplugs in, it was pure sensory assault. My nervous system was already screaming before I even sat down. So why did I go? Maybe I was chasing some kind of comfort. Maybe I thought steak would fix it. I ordered a 10 oz sirloin steak, mashed potatoes, mac and cheese, and an extra side of fries. Fries that arrived cold, limp, and flavorless—like they’d been waiting for someone else and settled for me. A small glass o...