Rock Bottom

You know how alcoholics and drug users have to hit rock bottom before they can turn their lives around? They have to end up in a gutter face down in a pool of their own fluids.

Today a cookie fell out of my shirt.

I don't know exactly how it happened.... I had pulled out the rest of the cookies from the bag and set them on my chest while I was laying down and watching T.V. online.

Very convenient, if you ask me. I guess my A.D.D. got the better of me because I got up and, I don't even know what I did, but I was gone an unjustifiable amount of time. My Cha's Cha's held this bad boy in there good an long. Anyways, I came back to watch Jersey Shore on my computer (yes, I'm classy) and I started to feel the movement of something coming down my shirt by the forces of gravity.

 

I began to ponder the many different things that it could be. 

And in those split seconds where this all went down I was. I was very scared.

If you ask my past roommate of four years, she'll tell you. Jump out at me? Nothing. Someone gets punched out at a party? I run over and put him in the recovery position. But a bag flailing in the wind will send me running. A knock at the door will make me jump beneath my sheets and hide.

This was no different. An unidentified downward moving object in my shirt cannot be anything good.

But then it was.

It fell out and I laughed.....

and then I ate it.

And you would think that this would be Rock Bottom for me, but it wasn't. There will, undoubtedly, be more times when I have food fall out of my shirt, hopefully it's always as sweet as a cookie.

Hopefully.....