Thoughts on a Sunday Night
And posted on a Monday morning.
Have I mentioned how much I love my Old Navy pajama pants?
They are the perfect bottoms: comfy enough for sleeping and lounging but not so pajama-ish that I can’t wear them in public. And wear them in public I have. To the video store, the grocery store, the movie theater. Any day now, I’ll be wearing them to work. And not caring. Because my pajamas? They rock. I now have two pairs: black and charcoal.
Food and Wine
Every week, I say to myself, "This week, I am going to stay within my grocery budget." And every week, the gods laugh while my wallet weeps. I did it again this week. I went to Whole Foods with the best of intentions. I only needed a few things to round out what I already have. In my defense, I did need to get some staples that I only get every few months (e.g., ketchup, mayonnaise, lotion). But how did that bottle of Chardonnay get in there? I can’t remember the last time I bought a bottle of wine. And then there’s the cantaloupe. At least once a month, I buy a small container of overpriced, out-of-season cantaloupe. And every time, it gets pushed to the back of the refrigerator and forgotten until it has gone rank. Every. single. time. Really. But yet, I have this compulsion to buy the cantaloupe, even though I know its fate.
I keep forgetting to tell ya’ll about a dream I had last week. Lora and LostInTexas were in it. Lora had just moved into a new house and we were there and for some reason, her bed was in the living room. Anyway, we wanted to make vegetarian sloppy joes, but her housemate had locked herself in her room with the ingredients. Except for a can of tomato paste, which I inexplicably had and kept thrusting toward the door as we yelled at the housemate to give us the rest of the ingredients. Any theories on this one?
Have I told you how much I hate Sydney Bristow? And not just because she gets to cuddle with Will Tippin when she's having a bad day, although that's certainly part of it. It's her perfect hair, which is always in these supercute styles that I can never replicate, and her perfect stomach, which even if I did crunches from now until doomsday, I will never have, and her pert butt, which even if I did lunges from now until the day after doomsday, I will never have. And it's that even though she's obnoxious, self-centered, and clingy, everyone loves her. Except me.