Today, my dad got the things needed to make toothpick food. Basically just a lot of deli meats and cheese. Not really that important, actually.

Getting on with it, though: we have some ham in our refrigerator. A lot of ham, or a little ham, I haven't thought to check because I haven't been hungry. He said that we should just throw it out, and I said no, you shouldn't waste perfectly good food.

The reason why this is funny - or just snarky, or hypocritical if you like - is because whenever I  want to throw out perfectly good food I get the same lecture. But when someone else, because god forbid someone else want to throw away fine food, I go off on a normally very short tangent.

"There are starving children in- no, there are starving hobos downtown!"

One time, my mom took me for a drive downtown. I saw a hobo. I cried. I marveled at the architecture while I cried. It was hard to do because one: I couldn't see because I was kind of, you know, crying, and two: because we were in a car and I was trying to make it look like I wasn't crying although it was obvious.

Compare this to the time when I went to CVS with my mom, and she told me that someone I used to know died. I didn't know he was dead. I was crushed. So I cried forever then, too. And I made her go into CVS to buy me tissues.

And then we had to go back in and buy other things.

How wasting food evolved into the many times I have cried in cars, I do not know.

But now you know, so maybe you can tell me.

Maybe.

ALSO.

I had a dream about the end of the world. Obviously, it did not end well. But there was this random pig giving birth throughout it.

I... don't know. My dreams are disturbing.