If people could see me eat when I’m alone, no one would ever ever want to kiss me again. They might not be able to look me in the eye, even. It’s that gross. I just ate half a box of crackers with a jar of salsa and half a jar of sour cream. I eat like a bulimic, except without the purging part. When I was done eating, I sat there slack-jawed and looked around me in horror. There were crumbs EVERYWHERE. On my bed, on my shirt, on my knees. The soles of my feet. In my hair. In the blinds.
I swear to God it looked like Cookie Monster had just blown through.