I packed my day's snacks this morning: An orange, a salad, some leftover chicken, a few cups of carrot sticks. And when I dug into my chicken...it just wasn't...right. The smell wasn't offensive, it was just. Less than correct.
And oh my gawd, you guys, I didn't eat it. "Oooooh big deal, Ceej, way to make the choice normal people everywhere have been making forever." YEAH IT IS A BIG DEAL, JERK. I have NEVER not eaten leftovers. I am a leftover-eating machine. I have had countless stomachaches and near-misses with food poisoning, but I have gone on, undeterred.
OK so I had a couple of bites. I had to see! What if my nose was tricking me? And the chicken didn't taste weird, but my nose had freaked me out enough that I stopped myself.
I think this means I'm a grown up? So that's exciting. Maybe tomorrow I can learn some capitals or something about politics!