I just spent the last five minutes thinking about what I would do if I were trapped in my room for the rest of my life.
This line of thinking began when I was eating nachos. Halfway through my second plate, I found a cheesy nacho chip on the floor. It would have been good enough to eat, but... it had hair and fuzz all over it. So I decided to myself, "Paul, you are not going to eat that nacho. It is gross." So I set it off to the side.
But then I started thinking...
"What would happen if you were starving? Then would you eat the nacho chip?"
Well, of course, I would. But I'd probably wash it off first.
"Wash it off? Say goodbye to all the chip's delicious salt and grease. It'll go right down the drain with the fuzz and the hair. You might as well not eat the chip at all."
Good point. But... but... but why would I ever starve? I got lots of food in my room.
"Ah, ah, ah. What if you were trapped in your room? You wouldn't have much to eat then, would you?"
You're right. All I got is Toast-'Ems, a can of sliced peaches, and a jar of Jif. That's not enough at all.
And that's when I started to panic. I genuinely became frightened by the idea that if I ever got trapped in my room, I wouldn't have enough food to keep me from swallowing my own tongue.
But then I relaxed.
"Paul," I said to myself, "You're crazy. You can just ration your food when you get trapped in your room."