I routinely have a sensory and emotional experience that I am not sure anybody else really has, or at least not as often.
No matter how hungry or full I am, nothing makes me sadder than the end of my cereal bowl. There's something that is so promising about a big, crispy bowl of cereal (preferably Honey Nut Chex) and milk (in my case the hypoallergenic almond variety) not yet plundered by a spoon.
The first spoonful you take of that shit, you're all like, oh yeah, this is gonna be good! And then you just feel so happy eating it. Like the whole entire time. Maybe you're even reading the back of the box, and the cereal tastes so good that you are actually interested in reading and finding out what the "General Mills (TM) Promise" (TM) is. But then you get down to the last few bites, and drink the milk at the bottom, and look in your bowl and feel despair.
A deep, existential despair like no other. Having a second bowl just makes you feel sick, but yet the first bowl ending feels no less tragic.
I know I sound melodramatic. And I am not pretending that this is actually legitimately something to be sad about. It just bums me out, that cereal bowl ending.
And then I think to myself, what kind of human being am I, to be saddened by the end of a bowl of cereal? A ridiculous narcissistic asshole, that's who.
Basically what I'm saying is Honey Nut Chex makes me feel like the main character in a novel by Franz Kafka, and I could do without that feeling first thing in the morning.