I’m Not Proud
If there’s one way Jesse and I like to describe ourselves, it’s with the words “mentally stable”. And to prove that, we spent Saturday driving 4 hours to obtain cheeseballs.
Here’s the deal: it’s the church’s fault. The church we attended in Warsaw makes these cheeseballs every year. And they’re not just any cheeseballs – they’re life altering cheeseballs. I mean, they converted me from a person who whole heartedly believes the only place for a cheeseball is in the trash to a person who drives 4 hours just to procure them so it’s impossible to argue with that statement.
Not even farm contraptions could stand in our way.
Saturday we set out on our cheeseball pilgrimage, and just like last year’s pilgrimage, the weather was terrible. You may look at that as a sign from the universe that perhaps our time would be better spent in cheeseball rehab. I, however, look at it as a sign to not dawdle in the past. So instead of finding some sort of activity to make the 4 hours in the car “worth it”, we have lunch at Hacienda, pick up the cheeseballs and ice, toss them in the cooler, and head back home where I set the cheeseball on the counter to thaw out a bit and we then eat around the still frozen part.
I really don’t know why I’m confessing to any of this. Most of you aren’t living the cheeseball lifestyle so I can’t possibly expect you to understand. I guess my point here is we all have our addictions and sometimes those addictions need to be embraced. Unless those addictions are things like hard drugs and murder. Those need to be quashed immediately. Also, I need more crackers.
Worth it.
Soybeans, Too 