On Living with my parents...(again)...and On Laziness

I put the peanut butter away today. Loyal bayou-ers know that The Professor begins each morning with a complex set of ablutions and rituals that commence with a dozen cups of coffee with milk and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich; chunky pb, raspberry or strawberry preserves, milton's multi-grain bread (i am a human being, after all). But what may shock you, nay, may frighten you is that I am the laziest mofo who has ever lived (in her parents' house) (whilst contributing no rent) (and often eating leftovers that were not mine to leave-over).

It began about a month ago, when instead of putting the pb away, I contemplated the economy-size jar, picturing the moment that would occur in exactly 24 hours, when I would again be removing the jar from its shelf in the pantry, bringing it to the counter where the bread slices would lay open, open the jar, reclose, then replace it in its original position. I figured that to save myself those 40 some-odd seconds in the morning, I may as well just leave the jar out on the counter for easier access. open, then reclose. it would be so simple! so pure! so free of superfluous movement!

The parent (or Professor-spawner, as he is mainly known), saint that he is, said nothing. There were a few days within the last month when I would find that the peanut butter had mysteriously found its way back home to the pantry, but for the most part, it would just get moved out of the way during daily counter-requiring tasks, and moved back into its sandwich-ready position by morning. Enablers!

It was when, under the same reasoning, i considered leaving the milk out on the counter for goodsies that I realized the madness needed to end. And it might as well end today, on the shelf space designated for pb.

Th. Stmt: I don't deserve milk. And if I do, only skim. 2% is too good for the Professor and her negligent attitudes toward spoilage. *sigh*

I live here!? I am a fraud and an ingrate.