Sweet puddle of juice

I'm typing this blog with while almost naked. Feels so great. I really think I could join a nudist colony and be comfortable.

I have a predicament with housing for next year: either live with two girl whom I know I wouldn't be very happy with, or live by myself for three months until Whitney comes back from France. Either way doesn't seem like very much fun. I'm in limbo.

Story time! There was a sticky puddle on the kitchen counter this morning. Out of disgust, I cleaned it up but it was back by the afternoon. Perplexed, I searched around for a leak in the ceiling or any problem. Nothing. I sniffed the mysterious puddle only to find it was sweet smelling. My eyes met with the nearby fruit basket and spied the culprit, a rotten tangerine dripping it's juice onto the counter.