Don't Mess

It started about three years ago, or thereabouts--I was curious. I wish I had a better reason to try it, but really, that was it: plain, simple curiosity. I'd always thought I was stronger than to fall into dependence, but with that little bit, I found myself completely hooked and wanting more. Every time I went out, I had to get some. After a while, we'd amassed a good-sized stash, so things were okay, but yesterday, I saw them again, a rainbow set this time, and caved--

Is it possible to be addicted to microfiber?

I'll grant you that I have a compulsive personality to begin with: Karel keeps threatening me with a 2000-piece jigsaw puzzle--it's the sort of thing that would (and has, in the past) kept me up at night. And I have a liking for online games such as Jelly Cannon, because they have different levels that can be completed. In other words, leaving things half-undone, simply sits wrong with me, and I'll keep turning over the problem at hand until I finally figure it out or get it done. Having a whole set--and microfiber cloths, coming in sets with bright thematic colors, definitely meet that criteria--of something is simply a variation on that.

But if it's only paranoia if it's wrong, I'd like to say, in my defense, that if I am addicted to microfiber it's for a very good reason: namely, that they soak up everything like a BAWSS, which is quite nice when you have little bowls of kitty water in places they are prone to get kicked. You might think that the obvious solution, then, would be to put the kitty water in places where it wouldn't get kicked, but that's also the places where we wouldn't see the bowl, and would be likely to forget that the water needed changing.

And, well, it's nice not to need to buy paper towels when you do most of your groceries on foot. I have a hard enough time managing toilet paper.