Sad But True

it's getting ridiculous.

This is one of the (many) reasons I feel like the longer I live alone, the less likely I'll be able to gracefully transition into any sort of relationship. It's honestly getting to the point where I'm sitting down (on the couch, of course) eating dinner and I think, "Why do I need a knife to cut up this chicken breast when I can just spear it with my fork and gnaw on it like a meat-sicle while scrolling through Pinterest with my other hand?"

I believe Carrie Bradshaw referred to this as "secret single behavior," but I feel the need to confess it in the hopes that it will shame me back into civilized habits.

Of course there are (many) upsides to the solitary living situation, too, not the least of which is the fact that the dishwasher always gets loaded correctly (Seriously. There is an actual, designated, specifically engineered location for the bowls that both maximizes space and facilitates optimal cleaning. Why oh WHY would you put them anywhere but there?). I feel like I should take a moment here and at least be thankful for that.