Social distancing means that now more than ever I have the time and inclination to review my sorry situation. Upon further reflection, I’ve realized it’s not so different from that of this hamster, climbing through plastic tubes and stuffing his face with food.
The hamster was featured in an educational video for BBC Earth that was uploaded late last week. It teaches us that hamsters can fully U-turn their spines and love to dwell in elaborate networks of tunnels, which mimic their natural habitat in the deserts of Syria. But the tour de force of hamster existence is their cheek pouches, which can extend to their hips when full, and are used to stash away as much food as possible. The cheeks are ingeniously dry on the inside, so the hamster is later able to spit out the food it can’t immediately eat and store it somewhere in its fetish burrow for later. “The nuts stick to their dry cheek pouches,” says the film’s narrator, referring to the hamster’s diet, as the rodent passionately binges until her face is as wide as her body.
What does this have to do with my life? Everything. Like the hamster, the highlight of my face are my huge, adorable cheeks, which I use relentlessly to consume every item in my pantry and fridge possible until it is time to nap inside my unbreachable Brooklyn hovel. At present my cheeks are full of popcorn and multiple forms of caffeine.