Lips and heels.

My lip hurts. A month or two ago my Swiffer broke, and I had to repair the handle with duct tape. That repair was getting weak today when I was cleaning my apartment, so I duct-taped the handle again, only when I was biting off the duct tape to tear it, some of the duct tape attached to a chapped part of my lower lip and tore off that chapped part of it.

This reminded me of Ann Arbor, and the best and the worst decision I made during my weak there --

The best decision was after the roommates had left and taken the toilet paper with them, not to try wiping my ass with a washcloth and then washing the washcloth off with soap and water until my ass was clean, because shortly after I contemplated doing that, the painters showed up, and who knows what would have happened if I had been in the middle of that when they rang the doorbell and I couldn't answer (the landlord had given them the key).

The worst decision was to shave in the deserted apartment, since my razor had gotten banged up but there was an abandoned leg razor in the shower that I chose to use to shave before heading in to the conference; it worked fine enough, but when I was getting the little miscellaneous hair around my mouth, I went in for an angle and ended up slicing open my lip, which sucked. It wouldn't stop bleeding for like ever.

On a sidenote, I was thinking how some things just don't disgust me. When I was putting olive oil on my floors this morning, I just put the dirty paper towel up to the jug and swished olive oil on it, I wasn't worried about dirt getting back into the olive oil that I cook with. This was made real to me when at the bar just now my Kuwaiti friend went to the bathroom and out of boredom I started picking apart the callouses on my feet left over from popped blisters and chewing on the hard pieces of skin.