I may never eat a vegetable again.

I returned back home alone after our drive to Chicoroville for Thanksgiving. Michael is staying one week (I pick him up tomorrow - YAY) to help his Mom with a few things.

If left to my own devices I tend to forget to eat. My stomach has become accustomed to this and is polite enough to remind me around 9 or 10 at night. After a week of surviving on leftover ham from Thanksgiving, I thought it would be prudent to add some vegetables to my one meal a day when I got home.

In the fridge was some leftover black bean tuna salad that Michael had made. It contained a plethora of miss matched vegetables. I opened the container and smelled it...Mmm...Still smells yummy! Satisfied, I picked out a carrot and bit into it with much enthusiasm. Immediately my stomach dropped, my lips recoiled and I think even my teeth tried to bury themselves further in my gums to get away. The carrot didn't crunch like a raw carrot...It didn't bite smoothly through like a cooked carrot...Rather, it kind of oozed through my teeth and on to my tongue. The taste was uncomprehendable...Carrots shouldn't taste like that! NOTHING should taste like that! I spit. I gagged. I ran through the living room in hysterics. I made myself a ham sandwich.