I'm finding hair in the strangest places.

We humans are animals. Mammals to be exact.

One of the traits mammals possess (excluding whales and dolphins) is having hair. This hair sheds.

So if humans are mammals and mammals shed, then humans shed (for you mathmatic folk: a = b and b = c, then a = c which means hairy, shedding humanoids).

Taking all of this into account, it's perfectly natural and normal to find hair on the bathroom floor. All people find hair on their bathroom floors; this is fine. It's also perfectly natural to find hair on your shirts. Hair falls out of your head and lands on your shoulders and it then sticks to your shirt.

Some other normal places you might find hair are on your pillow, in the shower, perhaps the headrest in your car, occasionally on your desk or computer keyboard.

Again, this is all perfectly normal. It happens to everyone. All humans find sloughed off hairs all over the place.

What I'm wondering, though, is how in the hell did hair make it into my refridgerator. Seriously. Hair in the fridge. MY HAIR in the FRIDGE. What?

I wanted a pickle. I ended up with a handfull of my hair. (Okay, it was like two hairs, but the fridge? Really?)

There are only two logical explanations for my finding hair in the fridge. One: Someone put it there to freak me out. They snuck into my apartment and placed two hairs on the shelf beside the pickes. Two: The fridge tried to eat me in my sleep.

I'm thinking two. Here's why.

My apartment hates me. It really does. It plays dirty tricks like moving furniture when it's pitch black. Creeking to wake me up. And resetting all of the clocks. This apartment has it out for me.

Another reason, and I'm relying solely on my honed sleuthing skills picked up from Law & Order reruns, the guy above me keeps getting attacked by his appliances. Seriiously. Several times a week, there are loud bangs during the night that could only be caused by dropping a heavy appliance such as an oven, dryer or fridge. One Saturday morning, there were five bangs within a two-hour period. Before, I just thought my neighbor liked to play Drop the Furniture. But I now believe he's trying to protect himself from his evil fridge.

I bet that fridge is just chalk-full of hair.

So I think that while I'm sleeping, my fridge slides out of its space, makes its way through the living room, turns the corner and perches by my bed. Then it tries to bite me. But I'm such a ninja that I manage to avoid it every time-- even in my slumber. (That or it's just cause I sleep on the side of the bed that's furthest from where ol' Fridgey Boy can stand.)

This would also explain why it looks like my fridge is two inches too far to the right. I swear it wasn't always like that. I tried to move it back to the left but alas-- skinny woman arms.

My condiments also move about. And I'm anal about where things go in my fridge; I can totally tell when things are out of place. I have to be, after all, there's only like five things in there.

So that's it. My fridge has been trying to eat me while I sleep. That or it just wants to stop being a food preserver and start being a beutician. In that case, bring it on, Fridge! Give me some volume and curls!

Just try not to pull so much hair out next time.