The other night I had my most Miranda moment to date. Remember the episode of Sex and the City where Miranda has just moved into her new apartment, starts choking, recovers, and then has a panic attack because she thinks that she almost died alone and gotten eaten by her cats?? (NO? I tried to find the youtube clip....)
Well, I had a similar moment (without woman-eating cats, thank goodness) the other night. I was noshing on chocolate chips and watching [embarrassing tv show] when I suddenly started choking. Yes, I inhaled some melty goodness. I then couldn't breathe due to (what I assume to be) melty goodness blocking my windpipe.
As I slowly faded away due to the wayward chocolately juices, I realized that there were worse ways to die than by chocolate. I could get crushed in the stacks in the library. I could suffocate on chemical fumes. I could hit my head on the pipe above the washing machine, pass out, and freeze to death in the basement.
Yeah, chocolate wasn't looking so bad now.
Once I finally caught my breath, I was comforted by one thought: I have a job in the fall near N.A., and I will never have to worry about dying alone again.
