And I present to you, a random stream of thoughts as I walk home from the store. Because maybe you can't sleep and are desperate for entertainment. I live to please folks. Truly.
- REDBOX!!! No. Do not get a Redbox. You will not return it. You know you won’t. It’s not worth it. Just go home and watch the Riches on Netflix.
- Why am I not friends with Eddie Izzard?
- Oh, and remember when in Good Will Hunting Matt Damon is all, “How do you like them apples?” He was a custodian in that movie.
- Ugh. I have to remember to tell the kids to clean up better in the lunchroom. It’s like a food massacre complete with plastic cutlery. Eww.
- I think a lot.
- I miss my blog.
- I should write a blog about what I am thinking.
- I’m going to do it. Starting…..now:
- Pumpkin Spice Latte. Mmm……..BUT. I can’t get it yet. It’s not Fall-ish enough yet. Soon though. I shall enter the realms of the highly commercialized Starbucks and be rewarded with a cozy cup of deliciousness. I’m totally wearing a sweater when I buy it.
- Overhearing a guy on the phone, telling a story about a separate phone call. Dude. They can hear you. I can hear you. Everyone standing on or near this side of the Mississippi can hear you.
- Jiffy Lube. Those guys are always so nice to me. And don’t overcharge me even though they probably could. My car needs to be vacuumed. Oh well, at least I threw away the sandwich that was in there.
- Bread on the ground. How many ants will that feed? Or birds? Not pigeons though. Pigeons are irr-i-tat-ing!
- I’m glad I’m making a smoothie for breakfast tomorrow. Maybe I’ll become the “smoothie-girl”. Everyone will know me by my awesome healthy smoothies and they will taste better than Jamba Juice. Hahaha, just kidding. Unfortunately.
- Lights on, curtains open, in a stranger’s house. I am so nosy. Look how many candles they have! And an iron! I have an iron. Somewhere. I want a job where I could just peek inside people’s homes and write about them. But not say mean things. Just curious things.
- Almost to my shitty apartment. God I hate that place. I feel like I’m being a grown-up wrong. Aren't grown-ups supposed to have houses and yard work and stuff? But really, I find myself relieved nearly every single day that I don’t have that stuff. I don’t want to be married and have four thousand kids that you have to feed and dress and convince not to eat boogers all the time. But the apartment truly is awful, no matter what kind of grown-up you are.
- Why in the world is nose picking such a phenomenon? Seriously. I don’t know a single person who has never done it. Weird the things that connect us.
- I can’t decide if I’m proud of myself or disappointed that I opted not to get ice cream at the store. I should choose to be proud, because now it’s too late. Plus, if I got it I would eat it. And then feel bad. Also, this way I can justify getting ice cream tomorrow maybe.
- Phone call. I don’t understand why family stuff is hard stuff. Always.
- Apartment. So many stairs. So many stairs.
- Hello cat. I find it thoughtful that as lazy as you are you can still muster the energy to glare at me. Precious, really.
- Home. Filled with sweet things that make me feel better. Because there are so very many ways that I will never be enough, that I need to be reminded of the little ways that I am.
