Super engaging cool story about being an adult

I really hate mint-flavored dental products.   You will recognize mint as the flavor every dental product comes in by default.  Sure, you go to the store and see like five colors of mouthwash, but they are all different flavors of mint.  Even the orange one, somehow.  Except kids mouthwash, which is like half the size and twice the price because it has Elsa on it or something.  My favorite cinnamon mouthwash was available in stores for like my entire childhood, but now I can’t find it anywhere.

So I bulk order my fucking cinnamon mouth wash and cinnamon floss on the internet and I’m looking for a cinnamon toothpaste that serves the needs I have because the Close Up brand I inherited from my mom is not cutting it anymore thanks to my Medication of all mcfuckingthings.  Anyway, so, Cinnamon Mouthwash.   As one would imagine, it’s a big plastic container full of red liquid.  

I’d been running low on my latest bottle, but I checked under the sink, and there was a faithful bottle of red liquid awaiting me, so I did not panic to order more.  

And I ran out of that bottle last week, and reached under the sink to pull out the fresh one and emerged with vampire blood themed foaming hand soap from Bath and Body Works which my mom had purchased in bulk for me last year when it all went on sale.  The containers are not even like the same size or shape, but apparently I had just glanced down, saw a corner full of red liquid and said, ‘cool.’    

I ordered more.  Three bottles, maybe?  I got a notification at THREE IN THE MORNING that it was delivered, so Happy Halloween, it’s cinnamon mouthwash, I guess.  Just got back from picking up the fucking SOAKED box on my porch.  

But my mouth has felt incorrect for like a week because I haven’t had my proper cinnamon finish.  It has thrown off my fucking groove.  I’m like legit excited for bedtime tonight so I can use my cinnamon mouthwash and feel Correct.   

Anyway, being an adult is being a giant picky bitch about your dental products to the point of bulk ordering them online and then being confused at bedtime for a week because your ritual is incomplete and you associated the cinnamon taste with ‘good feeling go to bed’ time.