Those of you who have seen my apartment, or my past dorm rooms, know that I am a slob, a sloppy, sloppy slob. Some of you have wondered how I could live in such squalor when said squalor was so easily remediable ("just a little elbow grease!")
I suppose that I have a higher threshold of dirt tolerance than most of you--I am simply not grossed out very easily, by wet towels on the floors, by old food rotting on the counter-top. But tonight I discovered that there is still one barrier, one cleanliness-taboo I have not overcome:
I can't eat with my shirt off.
Even if there is no one around...even if it is only for a bite or two. I tried to take a bite of Rotee in my room tonight, after having taken off a rather uncomfortable T-shirt--and I found that I couldn't bring myself to take that first bite. I had to put down the toothpick, find another T-shirt, and then eat.
By the way, this goes for underwear, too.