Thursday, April 1, 2010

Thursday Evening Confessions

Nothing to do with anything. Just thought it was funny.

1. I haven't worn a bra in weeks. There's just no reason to. There's nothing there to support. (Sylwia, this does not change my opinion of your braless state.)

2. I cannot get enough goat cheese. Especially when I have it with some baby spinach, dried cranberries and sugar free mandarin orange segments.

3. I completely forgot that next week is Spring break here. I swear my kids just had a week off last month. They don't need another one. I don't think I can handle it.

4. I lost three pounds while I slept last night, which is kind of weird because yesterday was the first day I'd exercised in almost two weeks. And I've been eating a lot of peanut butter cups recently. And you know, goat cheese.

5. I hate pay day. I like the money, but I hate the meal planning, the grocery shopping and the bill paying that goes along with it.

6. I secretly hope that I'll see Tiger on a clandestine date with one of his mistresses at Chik-Fil-A while he's here for the Masters.

7. I'm pretty sure they put crack in peanut butter cups.

8. I'm pretty sure they put crack in goat cheese.

9. I was seriously thisclose to getting violent at the commissary today. Luckily, someone did it for me. I forgot that the first is when all the retirees come to shop. The aisles were clogged with them. This one old guy stood in the middle of the aisle, completely blocking the flow of traffic in both directions, yelling into his cell phone (no really, yelling) about vinegar to who ever was on the other end. People politely asked him to move. He ignored them. People tapped him, thinking maybe he couldn't hear them, and he still ignored them. Finally, a woman who must have been as fed up with old people shenanigans I was, shoved him and his cart out of the way, knocking over a display of Easter cookies in the process. I don't know her, but I love her.

10. Spring only lasts for a week in Georgia. It's now Summer, complete with 90 degree days.

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