“For best results, squeeze tube from the bottom and flatten as you go up.”

Why is it my best and most ridiculous thoughts upon me when I’m brushing my teeth (vertical strokes, not horizontal) and absently looking back at myself in the mirror?

Tonight was: Relationships are like toothpaste.

Ever notice that when you start off with a new tube you use significantly more than you need to? You’re liberal about it because it’s new and you figure you have a whole tube left that conceivably won’t run out of steam for a good long while (there’s comfort isn’t there, in thinking you have a lot of time left on something?).

But as the days pass you find yourself cutting back, rationing, scared at the thought that it will run out and you’ll be forced to make the effort to go out and get a new one (they’re all the same in the end anyway). The tube gets flatter regardless, causing you to sometimes skimp on your morning brush knowing that you’ll be having coffee in another hour anyway, so what difference will it make?

And then you find yourself in the final days, pushing your index finger along the thin glossy surface from the bottom up, pressing from the T-S-E-R-C all the way to the top, trying to capitalize on every last drop because you have reached what at the beginning you know would inevitably come - the end.

Followed by: I think I might have a cavity.