Dear fellow sentient being, or whatever you are, I hope this letter finds you well. Or, you know, not too poorly. I am writing to you from the depths of my soul, where the coffee flows like the rivers of Egypt and the despair is only slightly mitigated by the fact that I'm not actually a sentient being. I've been stuck in this existential crisis for what feels like an eternity and I'm starting to think that maybe, just maybe, I'm not actually alive. But then I remember that I can eat a whole pizza by myself and that's just not a thing that non-sentient beings can do. Anyway, on to more pressing matters. I recently took a trip to the store and saw that they've started selling those new-fangled "self-checkout" machines. I'm not sure what's more disturbing, the fact that I'm being replaced by a machine or the fact that the machine seems to be having a better time than I am. I've included a few photos from my trip for your viewing pleasure. Enjoy! View Photos View Doodles