There is a short list of items that will force me to run to the grocery, drug store, head shop, etc. immediately because I've unexpectedly run out.
Most items I'll force myself to do without until my next convenient trip to the store, but sometimes you just come across those few necessities that make modern life impossible to be without.

Considering that it is a short list, one would think it would not be the hardest trick to keep these items in constant supply.

You, dear reader, don't know me very well.

It is certainly not a matter of pride nor joy, but I believe myself incapable of several basic human awarenesses that the rest of you take for granted. Things like brushing your teeth, washing dishes, vacuuming... Perhaps not tasks that we enjoy, but the benefits they reap ensure that you will continue to perform them.

I, on the other hand, will suddenly look down at my feet one day and wonder why I'm feeling dried tuna fish crumble between my day-three-of-five socks on the carpet. It's then that I realize that I've forgotten yet again to vacuum, do the dishes and do the laundry.
This immediately throws me into a deep depression that prevents me from actually doing any of these chores and can only be remedied by playing Call of Duty.

So, imagine my surprise this morning while performing my morning constitutional that I should turn to my left and discover that I have completely exhausted my supply of toilet paper.
(Always afterwards do I think to look.) I instantly replay the above scenario in its entirety and realize that I also lack the ability to make shopping lists which would ensure that I reminded myself to buy toilet paper as I wandered down aisle after aisle at the supermarket.

Several questions come to mind: how is it that my TP consumption has skyrocketed in the last couple of months? I'm used to a strict diet of 8 squares a day (and yes, the end goes over the roll, not under!) so how could I have shot through a roll in under a week?
When I've had female guests in my home, I'm used to seeing half a roll disappear in a couple of hours. ( I don't understand it, but I accept it.) However, there have been a severe lack of females in my home, so this was not a suitable explanation.

Well, T. there just isn't a way for you to come out of this looking good.

I just don't consider it until its an issue, that's all.

Most people will go to the grocery and buy their week's groceries at once to include meats, dairy, grains and all other appropriate food group items. Among these groceries will include light bulbs, kleenex, household cleaners and toilet tissue. When purchased as a group, no one can chastise or bring attention to the fact that you are buying Preparation-H or extra-strength deodorant because it is all traveling in a herd.

But when you're the guy who comes in to buy a pack of toilet paper singularly, there are only two possibilities:

Either you're a mischievous person on his way to cause trouble with some local property

or, you're too stupid to look at the roll before you sit down.

There's that quiet understanding between purchaser's and cashier's eyes as you wait in line. He/she knows. He/she may even decide to prolong your check-out slightly, in order to see how bad the situation has become.

You can stand there, meet their gaze levelly, hands in your pocket, nonchalantly eyeing the tabloids, confident in the knowledge that all human beings use toilet tissue, or you can do what I did:

Stare intently at the cashier with an expression somewhere between fear and anxiety, hands rammed deeply into jacket pockets, as though you were holding your very insides from bursting through your shirt front. Add a slight shuffle with your feet in order to express a heightened awareness of your body's inclinations.
He/she can show mercy at this point and just ring up the stupid toilet paper and let you leave in dignity, or they can have a conversation with you and ask you if you have exact change and if you're having a good day, if you went to the season opener, making sure that the people in line behind you understand that YOU are there to purchase toilet paper. Nothing else. Just toilet paper. What an idiot.

Satan finally decides to take my outstretched money and hand me a plastic bag containing the toilet paper (although I partially expected him to hand it to me attached to the top of a pole decorated with colorful streamers.)

Dear friends, let us not be confused any longer as to how much toilet paper we have remaining under the sink. In the same way that we take care to know how much milk remains or how long the battery in our laptops will endure, let us always be mindful of our posteriors. And, if you're ever in the DC area, watch out for the horned cashier who takes joy in the torment of his customers.