Toilet Paper Epiphany
When I was single, I ran out of toilet paper all the time. I rarely did dishes, in fact I ate off paper plates and whenever possible directly from the container/bottle/box to avoid doing dishes or filling up an overflowing trashcan. I forgot to feed my pet hamster and it died. I fell asleep with plates, crumbs, books, boys in my bed that were often an icky mess in the morning. I was your typical Hey-look-at-me I’m-out-living-the-world-on-my-own-with-my-very-own-job-and-everything twentysomething.
Not so any more. Now I’m responsible. There is always toilet paper waiting under the sink. There is always something to wear to work (even though it may be the dreaded makes-me-look-fat pants, it’s clean and it’s there), there is always food in the fridge, and clean (real) plates to eat off of.
How fantastically boring.
