Four bottles of beer
One bottle of riesling
Two big bottles of Diet Coke
Milk
Tub of ground coffee
Tub of margarine
Tub of sour cream (although I don't eat it, Dan does)
Bottle of basil pesto
Bottle of tomato pesto
Bottle of salsa
Bottle of spaghetti sauce
A few kiwis
A few handfuls of tortellini
Bowlard-boiled eggs
Wedge of Gouda
Container of goat cheese
Slices of American cheese
Pack of shredded mild cheddar
Wedge of sharp cheddar
Round of Camembert
I know, I know, that's a ton of cheese. I get it. But it's because cheese is awesome, and I live near Central Market.
But anyway, living alone just exaggerates one's tendencies, I think, and it makes me think about what happens to someone's personality if they were in prison, living in an isolated cell or something. (That's a stretch, I know. But you can't argue that being alone makes a person kind of goofy.)
There are other things about being alone that I like. I don't have to share the TV with anyone--mostly because I don't have a TV, but if I did, I could watch what I wanted. I don't have to worry about all the dishes being dirty once I'm halfway cooking dinner, and so I don't have to eat out of Tupperware or something stupid because all the plates are in the sink. I can spread all my assorted crap (hair bands, makeup, brushes, sticks of deodorant, etc) out over the whole bathroom counter. I can make sure no one ever, ever leaves dirty dishes in the living room.
(Yeah, there's always the classic example of walking around in your underwear or naked if you want to, but I always leave the blinds open on the windows partway so Fenway can sit on the sill and watch the birds, so I don't do that.)
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