Get Your Hands Off My Fucking Cheese.

So, The Boyfriend whips out this book...I'm sure you've all heard of it... "Who Moved My Cheese?" In short, it's a little fable about some creatures living in a maze learning all about change and adapting to it. The point of reading this story is to figure out which character you relate to most. Do you relate to the mice who immediately set out to adapt as soon as change happens, or are you like the people: One who became apathetic and lazy and therefore unprepared for change and then sits around pouting about the change and refuses to do anything to adapt, or the other who after a time realizes, he's being stupid and gets out there to adapt no matter how scary it may seem or how discouraged he gets. Clearly, all of us have been all of these things at one point or another. I however, present a different scenario.
The person who defends the status quo. The person who says "Get your hands off my fucking cheese."

More often than not, I find that this is me. I don't like change, however, I recognize that it's an inevitability. So, I try and live my life in such a way as to avoid inviting change at all costs. I think for the most part, it's because growing up, people moved my goddamned cheese all the time without my permission and without making me aware that sometimes it was a good thing. They took my choices away from me. And so, these days, I hold on to my power of choice with a choking, vice-like grip. And fuck anybody who doesn't like it.

For example. My diet. I am definitely one of the most irrationally picky eaters I know. The Boyfriend doesn't even like getting Tapas with me because there are things I simply will not eat. Like Mushrooms. I don't like them. They are gross. Also, it's very hard to get me to try something new. And I finally figured out why. And it was during a lunch with my dad.

I ordered my staple Tuna Salad on White Toast. It is my all time favorite lunch in the universe and I eat it at every opportunity. So, my dad starts giving me a hard time about my boring palette and how I need to start "broadening my horizons" (a favorite dad-ism) and at that moment- an epiphany. I looked up from my plate and calmly stated:
"Dad, there are very few things in my life that I have control over. What I eat is one of them. I know what I like. I like Tuna on Toast. It makes me happy. If I try something new and it sucks, then I won't have enjoyed my lunch will I? This way, I absolutely know that I will enjoy my lunch. And yes, I understand that living my life under such predictable constraints limits the possibility of discovery, however, in this case, I think I'm ok with staying in the predictable darkness of my Tuna on Toast."

My point. I hate change. HATE IT. Again, I know it's an inevitability, and I am working to accept it. But right now, there are going to be a lot of times when I will simply turn to the world and say:
Get your goddamned hands off my fucking cheese.