I remember when I moved to Canada, and I noticed the obvious difference in the grocery stores: less choice! Now I've been here for a long while, and I don't notice it so much anymore. Except for when I go back to the States. I've been really struggling with writing lately. I can't find the motivation. But I don't like letting myself down. I guess it's good not to want to live like that, letting yourself down, but there are worse things aren't there? Sometimes we have choices between things that aren't really offering us a choice, don't we? Like, at the grocery store, in the cereal aisle, when every cereal is filled with the same garbage. I usually think of the cereal aisle when I think of choice. I don't know why. The visual, the boxes, the picking them up and examining them, the comparing prices, the disappointment when I realize they really are all the same. The picking between the lesser of two evils. Being stuck between a rock and a