One in twenty games I don't feel hungry afterwards. Nearly all of the time I come off the field demanding burgers and pizza and fishsticks with custard, but after five percent of matches, just five percent, my friends and teammates go out for Wendy's; I go home and catch up on my webcomics. I take a shower. I read a book. I think about how I played.
And then right when I am about to go to bed - in fact, right when I am about to brush my teeth - I get hungrier than I've ever been, and for cereal, cereal, cereal. I pull on sweatpants and go downstairs to lay waste to the cabinet next to the sink. I've eaten whole boxes of Multigrain Cheerios and Raisin Bran. I drink water - room-temperature, in a glass - and I eat more cereal than I ever could in a week of usual breakfasts.
And here is my question: why do I want you to know that? Why am I interested in telling my friends that sometimes I like eating cereal late at night? What possesses me to tell people the water's temperature? This is a boring story. This is a then-I-found-five-dollars story. This is unworthy of recounting.
At night, I could shuffle my day's anecdotes into those worth telling and those that should not be repeated. It could never be an exact science - if I have a forgiving audience I might tell one of the less interesting ones - but it is a procedure that I like to think could be performed in a fairly accurate manner. If there's anyone out there that does this, please let me know. I'd like to hear how and when you started, if you think that would be an interesting tale to repeat. At the very least I could take a look at your filing system.