Stream of Consciousness in the Detergent Aisle

Last night, I was a little bit hungry, so I ran over to the grocery store for a couple of those delicious frozen pizzas that are always on sale and are always delicious. However, as often happens to those of us who don't make weekly trips to the store, I found myself remembering other things that I needed that I may as well pick up so that I don't have to make another trip in the near future. My internal monologue was going something like this:

"Mmm, pizza, that'll be delicious...what goes with pizza...I need something to drink...Sprite Zero?...Fresca...I wonder if I were to purchase Diet Orange Sunkist and I were to add a hint of vanilla vodka if it would taste anything like Henry Weinhard's Orange Cream soda...that would probably taste good...would it smell good?...I need detergent...detergent smells good...I need deoderant."

And so, ladies and gentlemen, for a brief period of time, I was a character in a Sylvia Plath novel.