First, someone made popcorn at work. And it wasn’t burnt!
It smelled so good. And I wanted some. Very badly.
Either that, or I was having mini-stroke. Whatever. Moving on.
Second, I set my heart on making some popcorn when I got home. Truly, it got me through the remaining two hours of work.
Third, I got home and went to my cupboard.
No fucking popcorn.
This is where my brain sort of temporarily stopped working and I did that irrational-desperate thing where – even though I knew I had no popcorn because I just-then remembered making the last bag a few days ago and thinking to myself “Oh, pick up some more popcorn next time you’re at the store” – I started to tear apart my kitchen.
I removed damn-near-everything in the cabinet where the popcorn is generally kept. Oh, maybe there’s a stray bag hiding behind these boxes of tea! Oh, I KNOW there is. THERE HAS TO BE ONE MORE BAG BACK HERE.
Then I remembered that I used to keep my popcorn in a basket on top of the refrigerator. This was, of course, over a year ago. BUT MAYBE I MISSED A BAG WHEN I MOVED IT.
That’s when I realized I was a crazy person. A crazy, popcorn-obsessed person.
And I got surly.
Because I didn’t have anything that remotely resembled popcorn. No nuts. No crackers. Nothing snack-y nor crunch-y.
So I ended up eating a caramel instead, which is essentially the least popcorn-like food item ever.
Woe is me. My life is HARD, y’all.