It’s a Saturday morning, and you’re rolling your grocery cart down aisle 5 – the snacks aisle (because let’s face it, nobody goes grocery shopping on an empty stomach). Out of nowhere, you spot a familiar face. You squint a little and, sure enough, it’s your ex, hunched over a jar of peanut butter, meticulously comparing nutrition facts. This, of course, is the same man who once declared that instructions on shampoo bottles were too complicated.

And there, clutching his arm, is a woman. Her hair shines under the fluorescent lights, she laughs at something he says, and with the energy of a thousand suns, you just know: she’s the new girl.

Your heart does a little somersault. No, not because you’re still hung up on him, but because you’ve just realized you’re still in your PJs. The very PJs you’ve been living in since last night’s “Stranger Things” binge.

The split was amicable, thankfully. The relationship had come to feel like one of those party balloons – great for a while, but it had deflated with time. There were no catastrophic fights, no storming out of the door, suitcase in hand, and no bitter taste. Just two people who realized they liked each other better as friends than as lovers.

So, you straighten your back and wheel your cart towards them. Because the only thing worse than meeting your ex in the supermarket in your PJs is avoiding your ex in the supermarket in your PJs. Besides, this is your chance to prove you can handle this like an adult and not like a tween with a broken heart.

“Hey,” you say, nudging your cart into his field of view.

He looks up, surprise etched on his face. “Oh, hi!”

You chat, you laugh, and you make casual observations about the outrageous price of avocados these days. She seems nice, the new girl. She has good taste in music, and she likes to read – two things you didn’t have in common with your ex. Suddenly, the break-up seems even more like a good decision.

You say your goodbyes, exchange pleasantries, and then you’re off, leaving them to their peanut butter dilemma. Your heart has settled back to its regular rhythm, and the encounter hasn’t been nearly as disastrous as it could’ve been.

In fact, as you turn into the cereal aisle, you can’t help but smile. Because really, if you can survive seeing your ex with a new girl in the supermarket while you’re in your PJs, what can’t you handle?

And just like that, you’re off to the next aisle, leaving any lingering remnants of your past in aisle 5, right next to the crunchy peanut butter.