Over the last few days I’ve observed the end of my toothpaste tube. What’s particularly ironic is my observation of this same conclusion on six consecutive days.

Namely, I thought it was finished.

That is, until I proceed to brush my teeth, and come to the realization that I’m out of toothpaste, and decide to squeeze as much as I can out of the “finished” tube. To my surprise, each day I salvage what I believed to be the very last bit, and conclude that that would be the last day.

It’s been 6 days, and I’m convinced I can keep pushing through. If you have any literary intuition, then you might see how I’m going to wrap this post up.

In realizing this constant ability to continue to push and extend the duration of the tube, so I have with myself.

Sometimes I feel down, but:

I can keep on squeezing out. After all, with all this brushing, it only makes sense I wait to see my teeth turn white and pearly (they’re already pretty clean, so I guess cleaner; you get the idea).