Eating Habits

Ok, I'm not a prude when it comes to food. I eat almost anything that falls on the ground, almost anywhere (including the bathroom a few times), as long as I blow on it, because somewhere along the line I became convinced that blowing on things was equivalent to an extreme sanitation process involving boiling away microbes and then burning up their ashen remnants so they don't regenerate and form an even stronger, mutant strain of microbe - but this time, pissed off. Like vampires. Because I also picked up the belief that microbes are like little monsters.

Anyway, I eat most things. Hair in my food at a restaurant? Fine. It was probably mine anyway. And even if it wasn't, what's the big deal? Is the hair going to give me AIDS? Probably not. Drop your apple on the sidewalk? Brush it off on your jeans and keep chomping. The health that comes from an apple a day is going to outdo any invisible sidewalk spit that's on there anyway.

Isn't it?

Or if I was eating some spaghetti in the bathroom and it fell onto the sink? Well, that only happened once and I don't usually eat in the bathroom, but when I lived alone I never shut my doors and would often get really distracted with long drawn out, totally imaginary conversations in my head with how Dexter could murder someone and get away with it in the best possible way that was also funny because he doesn't do enough comedy-killing. (Active imagination by myself? Yes. Healthy? Probably not.)

On top of that I, for some reason, got in the habit of darting quickly from room to room (as opposed to when I dart slowly) so if I was standing in my bedroom and needed to get some water I'd almost run there, and then if I was in the kitchen eating some pasta and decided I needed to pee, I'd sprint over, bowl in hand, and undo my pants with my free hand as I was running because heaven forbid I waste the three extra seconds it would take me to undo them once I actually got into the bathroom. (When I moved back in with my sister I actually had to actively remind myself to pull my underwear down after I was out of the hallway.) I'm not sure why I was always in such a hurry by myself, it wasn't like I was rushing to get out of the house or something, but for unexplained rational to myself, I had the urge to be very quick at all times. Like I was racing myself to make sure I didn't get slovenly. Staying home all day is fine, as long as you do it fast.

No good can come from me living alone.

Anyway, I ate that spaghetti that fell onto the sink, even though James had just walked his kitty litter paws all over that sucker, because it wasn't the first time I'd had kitty litter in my mouth.

That being said - today I caught someone eating a moldy bagel, and after I removed said bagel from his mouth and began to pick the mold off, before realizing it was too late, the mold was everywhere, and tried to find a window to throw it out (because the inside trash was too close), he ripped the bagel from my hands, said "Eh", and continued to EAT THE ENTIRE THING WITHOUT A CARE IN THE WORLD.

I'll let the wave of horror wash over you for a moment.

Yeah. Moldy bagel. All up in his stomach.

Boys are so gross.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go see if that popcorn I dropped behind the couch yesterday is still there. Like I'm gonna let that go to waste.