And so, for my creative writing class, I wrote a piece about my scrambled egg eating experience:
I look at the scrambled eggs. No, it’s a clump of eggs. I pick up my fork and poke at the egg clump. It jiggles. I start to furiously chop up the clump of egg with my fork. Smaller and smaller the pieces get. I was past the scrambled egg stage; I was getting down to a molecular level. Once I was satisfied at the tiny bits of egg scattered about my plate, I gave them one final mash. I add one dash….4 dashes of salt. I tentatively scrape up some egg molecules and bring them near my mouth. I bit down on the fork. I chewed on the scrambled egg and swallowed. The salted scrambled eggs were like glorious yellow suns.
My writing group found it hilarious. My self esteem went up a few points that day. Good for me.
In other news, I am....alive. I'm sitting on my bed and living. I guess. I am hopefully not bothering anyone too much with my existence.
You know, I was sitting at dinner tonight pondering my possibly bothersome existence. I even started looking around and making sure my loneliness wasn't distracting anyone. You never now....seeing a moderately attractive girl eating alone might bother some people. They start to spend their time thinking about why on earth I would be eating alone instead of enjoying their burrito or pork sandwich. Is there something wrong with me? Am I a crazed sociopath? I assure you, I am not. On this particular night, I ate alone because I needed to eat fast and get back to doing homework. Still, people might be troubled by a moderately attractive girl who may or may not be a sociopath that eats fast. Am I behind on my stalking schedule? Am I a hyena? Again, I assure you that neither of those things were the case. I simply had homework to attend to. I was finally being productive for once. I wasn't going to let a little thing like dinner slow me down.
Other than checking out the flooding, that's about it really.
See ya later, yeah?
~AM
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