I’m totally addicted to turkey and Cool Ranch Dorito sandwiches. Don’t tell me you’ve never jammed your chips in between the layers of a sandwich. It’s awesome. Sure, I haven’t done so since I was, oh, TWELVE, but I just can’t seem to get enough.
I’m rereading Twilight. But, before you sigh and shake your head in disgust (you think I don’t know, but I do), let me explain. I devoured four very long books in a matter of days. I saw the movie in the middle of the third. By that time I was beginning to forget details of the first. Suddenly, I couldn’t help but remember the first book as if it had happened exactly like the movie. I had to go back and reread it to remember. (To remember how fantastic it was.)
I am, however, slightly unnerved to realize that I’m having an even harder time putting it down now than I did the first time around. Which was approximately twenty days ago. I have a problem.
I’m worried that I might get fired for blogging at work. I’m not sure this will actually stop me from doing so, but it’s something to think about. One of our supervisors was just fired for some sort of sexually inappropriate e-mails, the details of which I’m still fuzzy. Granted, this blog is a far cry from “sexually inappropriate” (I think), but you never know. I really should stay off the Internet while at work. But then what would I do with the other six hours?
I’m wondering why Blogger insists on capitalizing the word “Internet.”
I’m trying to decide whether or not I want to hear the answer to a question I asked of The Husband earlier today. I asked him if he would choose The Other Woman (who will remain nameless because I can’t type her name, let alone say it, for fear I might vomit) over me if she were, in fact, available and not married.
And then I said, “You know, marriage? It’s that same thing YOU AND I entered into legally five years ago? We stood up in front of friends, family, and GOD and vowed to be together forever?! REMEMBER THAT?!” Okay, so I didn’t actually say that, but maybe I should have, just to remind him. Because I think he’s forgotten.
Either he will say yes, at which time I will have to cut off his testicles (sorry, men), or he will say no and I won’t believe him. Either way, it’s a no-win shituation. Which is why I’m not sure I want to know the answer. So, I ask you this… Is it better to know? Or be blissfully ignorant? I’m not sure which way I’m leaning.
I’m changing the subject.
I’m wanting to bake. But not wanting to bake. But wanting to bake. And welcome to my brain. This is how it’s been for weeks. Tonight I came close. See, on Sunday, The Husband and I and my mother-in-law drove out to Palm Springs to visit family. We went to lunch at this deli that had one of the most amazing displays of assorted desserts that I’ve ever seen. Of course, the heart wants what the heart wants and mine wanted the giant smiley-faced sugar cookie. Sure, I could have chosen any one of the decadent desserts they offered, but no. I wanted the sugar cookie. And it was delicious.
However, while we were there, I also noticed they had giant chocolate-dipped Florentine cookies. They looked spectacular, but I thought that might be going overboard. Surely an eighteen pound sugar cookie is plenty… even for me.
But I couldn’t get those Florentines out of my mind. Tonight I found a recipe. I turned on the oven, set a saucepan on the stove, checked to make sure I had corn syrup… and then lost all ambition. Sigh. One of these days…
I’m thinking it’s time to go to bed and not just because that means Edward Cullen.