Tonight I’m meeting up with Dan at the Dupont Metro station, and then we’re going to go and find something to do. I’m not sure what, but I’m thinking it will involve food. I’m, to quote George Carlin, “having the painters in,” and therefore my stomach is just a bottomless pit of need. Yesterday I had cookies and mini chocolate bars for lunch, because I’m an adult. No, wait. I had Newtons. A Newton is not a cookie. A Newton is fruit and cake.
I am one of those people marketers love.
For instance, I had to have an 1893 just because. It’s ok, but it doesn’t even begin to touch Fentiman’s Curiosity Cola, but to be fair, I have not tried the ginger version of 1893, either. I am not really a regular soda person, but I try new ones, especially on those days when I don’t care about calories… like today. Most of the time, I don’t eat much. On days that I am busy and then exhausted, I don’t eat at all. I just go straight to bed. It’s not the healthiest thing in the world, but by the same token, I eat whatever the hell I want, when I want, because I look at what I eat over a week instead of every day.
It’s nice not to be one of those women who obsesses over every calorie, and I’ve been that person. At one time in my life, I weighed 170, and I looked like a little teapot. I do not recommend the way I lost weight. I went on ADD medication and it suppressed my appetite so badly that I would cry in the grocery store because I couldn’t find anything that looked good. I wasn’t crying so much over emotion, just that everything in every direction made me feel a little nauseous. Then, I kept it off by losing the ADD meds and being anxious and depressed. It’s been a wonderful diet plan. #eyeroll
Samantha told me that she once said to Hayat, “does she ever eat?” It’s because I don’t sit down to meals. Neither one of them sees me grazing like a bird all day. Animal crackers are a serious part of my plan to stay alive… even though by the end of the bag, you’re mostly eating feet.
I’m sure all of this is wonderfully uplifting. I was once retweeted by Margaret Cho. Aren’t I important?
I’ve been twisted around all day thinking it’s Tuesday, and then I remembered I was supposed to meet Dan tonight when there were donuts and bagels on the office kitchen table. My time clock is off because of the long weekend, but it’s nice that I’m one day closer to another weekend than I would have been had there not been a deliciously dark and stormy 4th of July….. mmmmm….. Dark & Stormy……
I need to stop thinking about food and drinks because I had breakfast and second breakfast and I am about three minutes away from eating a box of donuts.
But what I really want is one of the mini chocolate bars I got yesterday at Starbucks. It was filled with chipotle peppers and pop rocks… It’s called a “Firecracker” in case you’re looking.
Looking forward, T-money is handling pizza night, home-made rather than store or restaurant bought, because I loved the toppings at Red Rocks but not the crust. It’s very thin and thus gets quite soggy in the middle, so you end up having to fold the slice over horizontally to keep everything from just dropping onto your plate… however, their sausage is off the chain.
Saturday or Sunday I am hanging out with Ms. INTP, whom I have decided to nickname “The Professor,” mostly because she used to be one. Now she’s into project management and studying for ITIL (which will make my Alert Logic readers shudder). We’re going to be tourists in our own city, either going to a museum or to Ford’s Theater, which I haven’t toured since I was eight. If there’s a root to moving back to DC, it’s that I’ve been awed by this place since then. Again, it’s hard for me to believe that I ever left. I don’t regret my decisions, because there are plenty of things that happened to me during my time away that I wouldn’t trade for anything, but at the same time, reminiscence and fondness tied together nicely when my dad said, “do you really want to remain in Houston?”
I didn’t, because the White House isn’t there. I checked.
Stories That Are All True 