I have been being a very good girl as of late. I’ve been eating my vegetables, working out, walking my dog, cleaning my house, being polite to my roommate, even being kind to my parents.
All for nothing, I assure you.
So sorry for not writing, oh you three people who stumble across my blog in the vain hope that you could perhaps plagiarize some if not all of it for a middle school mythology report.
Well, while I was being dutifully wonderful in every way — I even got the oil in my car changed at 3,000 miles last week — I haven’t had time to write. That and I actually had things to do at work. So here goes.
I went to Peninsual-fresh today for lunch today, as I conveniently forgot my lunch at home. Didn’t want a stupid salad anyways. So as I was navigating over to the wonderful salsa bar (that you are only allowed to enjoy in tablespoon sized portions) I ran smack into a good looking young man.
It must have been fate, right? I mean, how else do you want to tell your kids you met, besides some fake-mex restaurant’s salsa bar mishap?
Well I guess it could have been fate, if I was on an aimless search for the perfect appetite suppressant. As I looked up into his face, I smiled and opened my mouth to say “I’m sorry” or something else equally as alluring, I caught a whiff of his cologne. Ever have one of those moments when the mere smell of something blasts you with a memory so sharp that you forget where you are and how you got there for even just a moment?
Well before I could stammer out a syllable, I was transported back to the 5th grade, when I had failed to change the bedding in my gerbil’s cage. For the 5th week running.
So instead of “I’m sorry” I stammered out “Oh god no” and walked away.
I didn’t even get any damn salsa for my stupid salad in its stupid taco shell bowl.
Oh, and I lied about the oil. Also stole it from A—-a’s g-chat status message.