jgoforth.com | we(b log)

I had to know, and now I do.

Despite the general inclination of the populous, myself included, to have a desire to move away from such a state, there exist some advantages to living solo. For instance, no one really cares if I leave clothes lying all over the apartment, or if I have several bags of trash that wait weeks to actually make it to the dumpster, or if I don’t end up coming home from work until 12:30am, or I decide that I am going to sing the same eight measure of a musical over and over again for weeks on end or no other reason that I can.

Or, should I decide on whim that it will be taco night; there is no one to disagree with me that it is a fantastic idea. And when I go to the grocery store and find that taco shells are sold in groups of twelve and the smallest package of meat I can find is 1.25lb and I decide that such things were designed as a personal challenge to my eating ability and I subsequently decide to accept that challenge; there is no one immediately present to try and share that food or convince me that it is anything other than a brilliant idea.

The previous paragraph is not hypothetical. I did, in fact, fix myself twelve very large well-packed tacos last night. I really thought I could finish them. I really did, right up until I finished the tenth taco, at which point I came to the realization that my micro-dream was not to be, at least not last night. So after 10 tacos, half a bag of shredded cheese, about little over a pound of beef, and a liter of coke, I had to stop, but it wasn’t a failure. I had to know, and now I do.