Pop! goes the Bubble...

This evening, when I walked out from my bedroom, about to head out to the gym, I found my littlest roommate busy in the kitchen. In her hand was a pair of blunt scissors, and she was cutting a large plastic sheet that, in my hurry to leave, I didn't pay much attention to at the time. When I greeted her she looked up, smiled half-conspiratorially and half-sheepishly, and handed me a piece of the sheet saying, here's yours. I got it home from work today, and I've cut it into pieces so we can all pop.

Intrigued, I finally glanced at the sheet. It was bubble-wrap!

Apparently she's one of the bubblewrap fans too... like I am. Like Piggie is. Like Frisco. People who absolutely cannot have bubblewrap in their surroundings without feeling the uncontrollable urge to pop the bubbles. I don't know how large this fan base really is, but if you take a glance at the people I tend to want to hang out with, a pretty large percentage of us are that way. (But then, the only people I tend to want to hang out with are at least a little bit loony, one way or another.) I remember having half-hour conversations with Frisco about popping bubblewrap... and first passes, and second passes and third, through the sheet. Incidentally, this time I'm using my sheet sparingly, I'm saving a large part of it for the "monsoons" (Isolated "rainy days" don't happen to me anymore.) when I'll need stress-poppers more than right now.

For right now, I know I'm really happy, but I'm not sure if I'm happier because I have a new sheet to pop, or because I've just discovered I have a flatmate as loony as I am!