Want Some Pie? 'Course Ya Do!

Ah, Monday. A day to wander in late and pretend you were here the whole time.

I was only a few minutes late, actually, but I think it set the mood for my whole slacker day. I’ve only really done a few things, and was sucking on a coffee during every last one. I even got eight hours of sleep last night. I’ll never be fully awake again.

Swig water. Must drink water if I am to run later.

I decided to go running today after consuming a large bowl of pasta at Olive Garden last night. There are some things the Olive Garden does just a little too right. I ordered everything a la Health (sauce on the side, whole wheat pasta), but I ate a few breadsticks, and also half the salad. I worked all day and got like, five minutes to eat an apple, so by 6:00 I was hungry like a hostage. The place was booming, too; I heard at least three different birthdays while we were there, which was a grand total of 45 minutes. The words to the OG birthday song are completely unintelligible, by the way. All the times I heard it, I didn’t catch a single one. Oh, I lie: "birthday". I think they’re just yelling numbers in Italian. Or curses. My pasta was fantastically good, though-I’m hoping it will help me run four miles today.

People kept freaking ordering Frappucinos yesterday like it was the first day of spring. People. It’s 41 degrees. It ain’t summer. It’s barely above freezing. Also? January. The groundhog has barely hit the first REM cycle, much less denied the thawing season for six more weeks-which WILL happen. Also also? MICHIGAN. Also cubed? Put a coat on, ya tramp. That little knitted shawl is not yet weather-appropriate (but neither is that tank top, so I guess this is falling on deaf ears). Sheesh. Four days without snow and you people act like it’s the first sunrise of an Alaskan summer. Get over it.

And while I’m on it, if you listen the first time? You won’t need to ask me "if I called your drink yet". Cellphone. Off. Thank You.

People got me all catty today.

On an up note, I did hit the ol’ VS sale. Tried on all sorts of frillies and flaunties, did not buy a one. The sensible underwear, the things I really need, were not on sale. Don’t cry for me, though-they will be next week when the Pink Madness is over. I went with my brother’s girlfriend, who did drop quite the wad on assorted bits and bobs (and a few bits that barely cover the bobs), so I felt like I had shopped without actually spending money. Very shrewd.

Until I saw the The Limited was having their Real Sale.

Since VS, Limited and Bath and Body works are all owned by the same company, they have their big sales all at the same time. They know just how to play you. Bastards. I’m poor now. The worst thing is, everything was on clearance because it was off-season, so I have sexy, beautiful things that I cannot wear until there actually is a heat index again. [Which is JUNE, lady. Don't act like you just freaking moved here. You know exactly when the warm weather hits. If you didn't have your boyfriend's coat, you'd be dead right now. And he hates you for making him cold. If you weren't a vapid she-demon you'd got to the Sale and get something to cheer him up, because the booty potential is the only thing that's keeping him smiling through his shivering right now. Tart.]

Man, PMS.

Two of the things I bought I was forced to buy because they didn't fit my brother's girlfriend (girlfriend-in-law?) but they did fit me. We were ideal shopping companions because we had the exact same body types, but with inverted hip and bust measurements. So we could mock the skinny together, but still have enough of a size difference that we didn't fight over the same tops. One top I bought was too expensive, but looked too fantastic to argue. One item was a necessity buy--a sweater for when the sun goes down in summer and you want to wear a bra tank, but need to keep your arms warm. And the last item was free for buying so much stuff. Bonus.

It's like the candle I bought at the next stop was practically free too, right? I hate shopping logic; it's just a way to not feel bad about spending yourself dry. I didn't mind it applied here, though; only $5 and my living room smells like pie. (You have to say 'pie' like Paula Dean, or there just isn't any point. 'Pah!' Strawberry-rhubarb pah, at that.) I walk in the door and have the urge to make coffee and buy vanilla ice cream. Winter needs to be over soon; I'm never making it past Fat Tuesday with the smell of pie up my nose.

This keyboard is giving me carpal tunnel. Catch ya on the flip side.


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