I've come to realize that I'm a high maintenance house guest. I suppose there are worse crimes to be guilty of, but I don't think I'd want me to stay with me, if I were someone else. (That sure sounds schizophrenic, I know.)
The first problem is my dietary habits. As it is, I'm a picky eater, but if that weren't enough, I don't eat red meat. I don't actually eat any meat that isn't poultry, and even then it has to be white meat. So chicken breast and turkey white meat. That's not a restriction that most people impose on themselves.
The meat thing is a choice, but the allergy thing is not. I'm strangely very sensitive to smells. Sure, there's the obvious things like flowers and certain plants, but I also react strongly to certain scents, like candles and incense, or worse, certain fabric softeners and laundry detergent. The latter became obvious to me about four years ago when I stayed with my future brother-in-law and their bed sheets made me completely miserable.
Sometimes, it's my house guests that get to me. My in-laws stayed with us shortly after Simon was born, and one of them had a cologne or perfume that just made me miserable.
Trust me, you don't want me staying at your place.
No comments yet.