I just wanted to eat my popcorn.
That’s all.
I popped some, I came to my bed to eat it…
To my bed…which was only moments ago deserted, but is now surrounded by preying teammates…
This takes me back to my first month on the Race…
I remember popping popcorn in Ecuador…
The first time, everyone took it…
The second time, I took it into a closet off the kitchen…
And ate my own bowl of popcorn…
My own bowl of popcorn…
I’m writing this now as three other people are eating the bowl of popcorn I wanted to have for dinner
I know better
It’s Month 8, and I ought to know…
You don’t pop popcorn for your dinner
Wanna know something?
I’m nearly crying…
I’m crying over a bowl of popcorn
You know something is wrong when you’re crying over popcorn…
I’m sure any great therapist would ask me why I’m really crying…
They would probably tell me that it’s more than just popcorn…
And maybe it is…
Or maybe I just really like popcorn.
People say you feel better when you share…
But I’m sitting here, listening to people smack some kernels, dropping others on the floor, and the bowl is now empty…
And I got a handful.
To all the introverted popcorn lovers out there….do not pop popcorn on the Race.
Don’t pop it for dinner. Don’t pop it if you want to be alone.
Just…don’t…
