I bought a 24 pack of one ply toilet paper at the beginning of October and we just finished the last roll.
I don’t tell you this to be weird, though it (kinda) is. I don’t tell you this to be gross, though it (kinda) is. I don’t tell you this so you can pity us, though you (kinda) should. I swear I have a point.
I bought a 24 pack of one ply toilet paper at the beginning of October, and I tell you this because it was an accident.
Over the course of almost a decade (how is that possible…?) I have taken the Myers-Briggs Personality Test Indicator three times. I took it once when I was seventeen, once when I was twenty, and once when I was twenty six. Each time it returned the same result, INTJ, which is (according to people who study these things) a Big Picture personality.
Typically, being a Big Picture Person is okay by me. I don’t get bogged down with the necessity of grocery lists or my socks matching. I see the benefits of details. I understand details. I am good at details. I like details. It is just that, on any given day, I am better at seeing the entire Mona Lisa instead of just one shade of paint.
That being said, sometimes I really screw things up.
Sometimes I leave the house without wearing shoes.
Sometimes I forget to put baking soda into banana bread.
Sometimes I buy a 24 pack of one ply toilet paper.
The problem came when I didn’t read the packaging. I just saw that it was big, was (very needed) toilet paper, and it was on sale. It wasn’t until I opened it to put it away that I realized that the next few months were going to be rough (get it? I know I am a child).
Additional salt in this wound is that I am married to a Teeny-Tiny Detail Person. I am married to a man who makes lists, takes them to the store, and crosses off each item in turn. A man who just cannot fathom how someone doesn’t read ALL THE WORDS on a package of toilet paper. A man who is often frustrated with my occasional inability to remember to close the shower curtain.
Being at opposite ends of picture-viewing spectrum makes our partnership both rewarding and challenging. Rewarding in that we make up for gaps in each other’s vision. Challenging in that sometimes we want to kill each other. You know. Normal stuff that two stubborn, independent, opinionated individuals face when trying to make something work together.
Despite our differences, we have endeavored together to create something neat. My husband, Matt, wrote, acted in, and produced a short film. A friend filmed it. Another friend starred in it. I edited it. The final piece [embedded below] is a work of love on many levels. The love of art, of friends, of family, and the love that keeps two people married after collaborating artistically – all were poured into the final product. So, Internet, I give you Finding It.
May you enjoy it as much as our household now enjoys two-ply toilet paper.