Mar. 31st, 2017


Mar. 31st, 2017 05:52 pm
malinaldarose: (Default)
I decided that since this morning was Friday, and since I needed to break a twenty-dollar bill, I'd stop at Dunkin' Donuts this morning and get a muffin for breakfast. So I pulled in and parked -- I never go through the drive-thru because I always want to see what they actually have -- and found that the shop was full of teenagers. I didn't have time to wade through them and I didn't have time to back track and go to either Tim Horton's or the grocery store, so I just went to work. I keep a box of Pop-Tarts in my cubicle for a reason. (Tangent: There's a fine line between done and scorched. If you can smell the rich smell of chocolate fudge, pop the toaster. Otherwise....)

A little later, I'm having an email conversation with my mother, in which I mention that I had to have a make-do breakfast of scorched Pop-Tarts. And she says to me, "Why didn't you call us? We'd've brought you something."

Really? Really?! RLY?!?

Why would she even think that I'd even think to call my mommy to bring me breakfast at work? When, in the history of ever have I asked my parents to bring me anything to my place of employment? Never, that's when, not even when I was briefly living with them after I separated from my first husband. I'm nearly fifty years old ferchrissakes; I think I can manage a morning without breakfast.

But I'm also smart, which is why I have Pop-Tarts (non-perishable nuclear disaster "food") in my cubicle to begin with -- so I don't have to manage a morning without breakfast.

This definitely falls under the category of "I can't even."

In other news...I've completely forgotten what else I was going to write about.


malinaldarose: (Default)

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