October 4, 2010
So as you all know, last Thursday I was in a deep menstrual-induced psychosis, during which time I went on an internet and chocolate chip cookie binge. Update: Later that night I had 2 more cookies, a jumbo avocado (I have a serious addiction), and 2 Advil PM’s. I am writing this on Friday, which is the day after that binge. The day when I told myself it was a new day and a less disgusting day. Well, today I skipped my healthy Friday walk due to the fact that I was having cramps and wanted nothing more than to drink a minimum of 4 cups of coffee (which I did), and when you drink that much coffee you can’t go far from home, and I’m fairly certain that my walking partner, Cathy, might frown upon me dropping trou behind the bushes in someones yard. So my lazy ass skipped the walk. After I decided that I had sufficiently caffeinated myself and emptied my bladder, I decided to run a few errands. When I got in my car I was trying to plug my phone into the charger but it was being really difficult and wouldn’t plug in. Then I noticed this:
|Not my phone, you guys. My remote control.|
So after a few minutes of feeling like a dumb-ass, I got over it and went on my merry way. Then while going down Highway 6, I got stuck in traffic behind this dude:
|In order to protect his identity (not because I want to but because I think I have to) I gave him a personalized vanity plate.|
After 10 minutes of being stuck behind him and fighting the urge to go cut off his nuts, I went to TJ Maxx and tried on a few shirts, and then had some woman in front of me in line tell me that I had Kleenex sticking out of my bra. Which I totally did. But it’s not because I am one of those old ladies who keeps her snot rags in her brassiere, but because I was wearing a low-cut black shirt which shows just a hint of cleavage, because I had period boobs and every girl knows that period boobs are big boobs and since during your period the rest of you looks like ass you might as well show off your big, sore boobs. Anyway, I needed to wear a black bra, and somehow my black bra got dented so it looks like I have some sort of inverted nipple problem or something, so I stuffed it with Kleenex so I wouldn’t look like a freak with a nipple dent. But sometime during the trying on of clothes, some tissue got knocked loose so that when I went to check out I had Kleenex hanging out of my bra. Get it? So I just told her I had a cold. Whatever.
After TJ Maxx I had a quick and uneventful stop at Target, during which I realized I was starving. I have to admit to you guys that although I was almost home, where there is healthy food, I drove through Whataburger. Because I am a loser. But I did order a chicken sandwich instead of a burger. Which is sorta healthy, right? But I just couldn’t resist the fries. I’m not entirely sure where Whataburger gets it’s french fry salt, but it’s super powdery and addictive, and I’m pretty sure it might be some sort of half salt/half cocaine mixture. And their ketchup? What is in that stuff? Maybe it’s Vampire blood, which I’ve learned from True Blood is very yummy and addictive. And also red. So they could mix it right in and we’d never know. But I also learned from True Blood that Vampire Blood makes you feel really colorful and cartoony and you can fly around in rainbow skies and see trails and stuff, which unfortunately did not happen to me, which totally sucks because that really would have helped with my periodness. But maybe Whataburger is only putting in small doses so that people don’t get suspicious. Unless you’re smart and Perry Masony and watch too much HBO. Anyway, after my fries were gone I searched my house for something else to dip in it, but I couldn’t find anything so I used my finger because I am a pig. Unfortunately I had no cash to use at Whataburger so I had to use my debit card. Which means I had to put the receipt in Steve’s high priority “Receipt Pile” so that he could log it into Quicken. Quicken is like his Xanadu. As much as I love disco things, shiny things, and totally cheesy things…that’s how much he likes Quicken. He really gets off on pie charts and graphs and financial stuff. But since we are trying to eat healthy, I didn’t want him to know about the crap I had eaten, so I put the receipt in the pile like this:
|In case you can’t read it, it says: “Salad! xoxo, Manager.” Since it was signed by the manager I thought he might believe it was official and stuff. That’s also why I used red marker.|
I must’ve done a really good job writing all managery and stuff because he didn’t even mention the receipt to me. You know, I was feeling very bossy when I wrote it. It’s either that or he’s just too scared of me to say anything about receipts when he knows that I’m menstrually insane. Hmmm….I think I am definitely on to something here.
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