Sunday, February 15, 2004

Each and every morning as I cross the hallway from the shower to my room (which I enter through the apartment building hallway), I spell bacon being cooked. It is such a distinct smell, and so unique in its ability to make you fucking salivate. Not many foods have that ability to turn you into a dog smelling a bar-b-que on the other side of the fence, howling and howling, but bacon is one of those, and smelling it is torture because you don't have any bacon to eat, and the smell is something you can taste, something you must. The family downstairs must eat bacon every morning, because every single morning as I pass through the hallway, I smell it, and I turn into that tiny dog at the dinner table, can't see the food, but can smell it, and want to taste it so bad.

The salad I was planning on eating for lunch just seems so stupid when I smell that bacon. What am I thinking? Why isn't my fridge stocked with nothing but meat products that smell good when they are fried?

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