I am a gross, gross woman.

I'm in Florida all week for business. If I didn't miss my cats so damn much, I'd move into this hotel and lie in the just-right king bed all week while drinking $3.75 Diet Cokes from the mini bar. You know, the one to which I have a key but which, mysteriously, doesn't even lock. 20/20, I smell a scam.

I ordered room service last night. Nothing, but nothing on that menu was enticing. I don't eat seafood, and since we are in the land of water and old people, and old people aren't all that tasty given their sell by date, that leaves seafood as the main culinary attraction. Discussions with the incredibly friendly room service (it always freaks me out that everyone in the hotel seems to know my name, whether I call or meet them in person; it smacks of an episode of the Twilight Zone in which I'll realize I'm on a martian military installation and I actually have a pig face or I'm the main course in How to Serve Kris, you know, that sort of thing) revealed that Yes! they could make pizza! And bring it to my room! And that gratuity was included even though you'll feel incredibly guilty leaving that line blank while signing the receipt!

I devoured two slices of that tasty, doughy, tomato-slathered beauty and passed out on the king bed, Seaweed at my side. It was only 8 pm. I woke up at 2 and had another slice. After I'm done talking with you, I will have another, now 13 hours after it's been sitting out on the desk. And folks, just so I can lie in said king bed a little bit longer, I just might have it for lunch in three or four hours.

I picture this being the post everyone turns to when I end up fighting some terrible Tex-Mex bacteria after eating a seven-day old Taco Bell burrito (if that happens, call FOX, because I'm pretty sure House would know just what to do), but I will eat most foods left out on countertops, in the sun, and in the communal work kitchen, time of arrival completely unbeknownst to me. I've eaten cheesecake 10 hours after the caterers were packed up and gone, ranch dip left out overnight after a wine and cheese, and - gulp - mayonnaise that I forgot to refrigerate after lunch.

But I won't eat seafood, even if that mahi was swimming just before it hit my plate. That's just gross.