People are germy. I’m a germaphobe. See where I’m going with this? And to top it all off, people don’t know how to keep their germs to themselves.
When I was little, I wanted to be a world-renowned singer with a giant castle made of crystal so I could see outside and have constant sunshine all day without opening windows. And the house would be all sparkly, and they would make light rainbows on the floor, and I would save all the animals in the world, and stop all the wars, and feed all the children…and…and…and…then I grew up. I grew up, and I found out what peeping toms, stalkers, bad record deals, bureaucracy, and mortgages were, and that all went right out of the window.
If you’ve ever seen Little Shop of Horrors, you know what this line means. This plant and I have one thing in common…an almost insatiable appetite.
I don’t know how much I weigh right now, and I only half-way care. I’m just waiting for my metabolism to flip me the bird and go on vacation.