What're ya eating, boy?

I don't even feel a whole hell of a lot like writing today. The do-nothing moron a couple of cubes away, not content to stink up his own silly space with whatever onion-laced crap he's eating for lunch, is out in one of the common areas. Whatever that stuff is he's eating, it smells like old winos and I am ready to projectile-vomit.

Melody and I actually IMed for quite a while yesterday afternoon. We resolved nothing.

However, later on, I had a realization that she probably had some time ago but could not adequately describe: people who've been really drinking a lot (like, for days on end, which I do not actually do) have breath that smells... kinda like that shit that Do-Nothing Boy is wolfing down in the common area. I really, really hope I never subjected her to that. It's highly unpleasant and I am not sure how I never noticed it. She was probably entirely justified in telling me to put my clothes in the wash and take a shower if I came over after being out for the evening.

Remind me to keep better track of that sort of stuff and drink a LOT less. I have always been rather self-conscious of my breath, mostly because in my early 20s I had pretty bad teeth due to malnutrition (long story I won't go into here) and was absolutely horrified someone would notice if I hadn't brushed and flossed and rinsed for a long time. A long-ago ex-girlfriend once described me as "the most thorough rinser she had ever met."

Blah. At least I never have coffee-breath, which is worse.