why me.

today, i discovered a ladies home journal positioned very oddly in our powder room. right next to the sink. but the funny thing is that when i tried to move it, i discovered that it was stuck to the tile. i then saw that the adhesive was a white substance that looked a lot like milk or soap, and then some flakes of cereal. yes, flakes of honey bunches of oats. i quickly confronted my brother about eating (and spilling) his cereal in the bathroom. and not just that. why, after spilling it everywhere, he seemed to think simply covering it with a magazine was a perfectly sufficient way to clean it up. why does someone eat cereal in the bathroom? i wish i could tell you. i ask myself the same question.

at which point, he denied any knowledge of the cereal. i promptly labeled him as a liar, since i'd just seen him eating a bowl of cereal, i've seen him eat it in the bathroom before, there were unmistakable flakes all over, and... plus, he lies all the time. lying all the time equals liar. i told him to clean it up, and he told me what he thought of me, per the usual tradition these days. and clean it up, he did, with a dry paper towel, which was, essentially, no help at all. i discovered this later, and ended up cleaning the dried sugar myself. wow, i was under the impression that i was living with a 17 year-old. i'm pretty sure my 3 year-old kids in taiwan were even capable of cleaning something like that up. or just not eating cereal in the bathroom.

i suppose things would be different if every day weren't another version of the same thing.



the sound you are now hearing is miniature segments of my brain exploding.