A breakthrough

Ok, I realise that no one cares that I don't like spit, but I just wanted to share that I had a 'breakthrough' last night. I was lying in bed, trying to sleep when it suddenly hit me. I don't like spit because of a traumatic childhood event. Hmmm, ok, traumatic may be a slight exaggeration but imagine this. You're about 5 years old and at the dress rehearsal of your very first ballet concert. You're in your snail costume and you're pretty damn excited about the fact you get to shuffle onto the stage, point your toes for a bit and shuffle off again.

One of the older girls has been assigned to put on your makeup. In the midst of applying blue eyeshadow (yes, it was the 80's) she makes a mistake. She corrects it by spitting onto a tissue and wiping your eye. Another mistake is made, this time with a wayward use of eyeliner. Spit is place onto the thumb and under my eye is made sticky. My face now smells like hour old pizza shapes. Note, I am shuddering while I am writing this. Katie Ferrarer, I remember you.