Magda had better things to do. Maybe not better. More interesting? Magda certainly had other things she’d rather do than drive to a stupid drug store twenty minutes out of her way for some stupid pills that wouldn’t do anything. Happiness? She already had a dealer for that.

But the shrink said he wouldn’t see her again if she wouldn’t take them. And the program would kick her out if she wasn’t seeing a shrink. And she’d promised to try to get off the hard stuff.

She made the stupidest decisions while sober.

Maybe she’d just take the next right and… “Damnit!”

Magda slammed on the brakes as an idiot cradling a cup of designer coffee jogged across the street.

And they said she had self-destructive tendencies?