If you knew that whatever you ate next would be your last meal, what would you want it to be?
Chicken Pot Pie. It's delicious, warm, and comforting, which are all qualities that will take my mind off my apparently imminent death.
Realistically, though, my last meal is probably going to be Raisin Bran Crunch. And it's probably going to occur within the next couple of days. Let me explain:
So last night, I'm lying in bed half-asleep, desperately trying to will the furnace to kick on without having to drag my ass out of bed and mess with the thermostat. Eventually I had to accept that I was not going to make my bedroom warmer via the sheer power of my brain thoughts, so I had two choices: A) try to fall completely asleep and ignore the fact that there must be some Clovers in the atmosphere or B) wake myself up and go turn up the heat. I chose option B.
So now that I've woken myself up, my insomnia takes over and is all "We're not going back to sleep now. We're watching 30 Rock on Netflix." Since I don't have to work until noon on Wednesdays I said "Alright Insomnia, you win. Let's Liz Lemon it up." Around episode three I finally started drifting off to sleep, when I heard a faint beep coming from somewhere in my apartment. I decide that I'm imagining things and try to fall back asleep.
::just ignore it and it'll go away::
::just go to sleep....::
So I drag my ass out of bed to take the dying batteries out of the smoke detector in my hallway. Just as I'm looking for something to stand on in order to reach the smoke detector, I hear the beep again.... coming from somewhere else. This is all too much for my poor sleepy brain. For some reason the fact that it's not the smoke detector in the hallway makes me think that something might be really wrong. Because I'm a panicker. The beep only happens once every couple minutes, so I'm slowly moving to different areas of my apartment trying to figure out where the beep is coming from. Every minute that passes is another minute my brain comes up with some completely batshit explanation for the beep. Finally I track the beep down to my laundry room, where I figure out that it's the other smoke detector. Yeah, my place is so swank I gots two smoke detectors and a carbon monoxide alarm. Jealous??
So, yeah. Now that I've sussed out that the beep was coming from the smoke alarm that I had forgotten existed, I'm able to quickly solve the problem. And by "solve the problem" I clearly mean "remove the battery." As long as the beeping stopped, I considered it a win.
Which is why I'm going to die soon, and my last meal is going to be Raisin Bran Crunch.
I eat an obscene amount of cereal. It's ridiculous. I just had a bowl when I got off work, and it might not have been my first bowl of the day. Sometimes I try to get ambitious and pretend that I'm an adult, so I cook myself a real dinner. We're at least a week away from me replacing that battery in my smoke detector, so the next time I go to make myself grown up food there's a good chance that I'll burn my apartment down and either die in the fire or give myself a heart attack/stroke once I realize I've burned down my dwelling. I told you I was a panicker.
And when I'm brought down by this panic-induced arrhythmia, there's a 90% chance that the last thing I ate will have been Raisin Bran Crunch. I would like the closing credits song from Cartoon Planet played at my funeral.
Now for something a little more pleasant. I'm really upset that they cut before Tracy finishes his line, but since I used it as my post title I'm sure you'll figure it out.