Sunday, Suckas
I know you’re thinking I missed my goal of a post a week in October what with it being November 2nd and all, but children, you are mistaken. For what you failed to remember is I operate on the broadcast week (when it suits my purposes), and so here we are, feeling a gamut of emotions from shock to awe, as I squeak in under the wire. I really have nothing to share, but since I’m hell bent on proving myself wrong (if you’ll recall, I had little to no faith in my October goal), let’s take a journey on my thought train. There may or may not be a glass of wine involved as I write this so hold on tight – it’s bound to derail any minute now.
Just a couple of Sox fans hanging out on a Friday night. And no, I’m still not over the loss.
I’m killing it in all things football this season. And by killing it, I mean playing guys who are out for the week and picking 90% of my teams wrong. I am, however, causing my husband to ask me, “Are you sure you’re not really a man?” so at least something’s working in my favor.
We had trick or treaters on Halloween!!!!! Granted the weather was terrible so we only had like 9 of them but still! Real, live children begging for candy! It was the greatest Halloween of my adult life.
He has no platform; thus, he has my vote.
Confession: I run a blog called Word to the Word. It’s filled with the bullshit incredibly deep, thoughtful words of wisdom I share with my co-workers every weekday. Somehow it has over 80 followers so people are either incredibly dumb or there are more people on my level than I thought (I really hope it’s the latter because I need more friends). My intention was to keep said blog anonymous and separate from this one, but I accidentally posted to the wrong blog earlier this week so cat’s out of the bag.
Per usual, Jesse and I marked the end of Daylight Saving Time by getting up at 6:30 in the am. We really know how to take advantage of that extra hour of sleep.
That’s what you want to see in the bathroom of the restaurant whose food you just consumed.
We watched a couple episodes of Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee earlier today. (If you’re not watching this, you need to. Immediately.) One of the episodes was with Jon Stewart, and Jerry asked him where he saw himself in 10 years. (Seriously. Watch this show. As evidenced by the previous sentence, it puts you on a first name basis with Jerry Seinfeld). This question got me thinking – who are these people with a 10 year plan? Are they incredibly bored with themselves? Or are they basking in a life of stability I can’t even begin to imagine? I mean, I can barely answer where I see myself in 10 minutes, let alone 10 years.
Yesterday we headed down to the State Fairgrounds for the Indy Cooking Expo. I told Jesse before we walked in the door to not let me buy anything. Within 5 minutes of walking in the door, I had already staked claim to a new chopper. In my defense, it’s Tupperware witchcraft I’ve seen in action in my mom’s kitchen and have been coveting for years now. YEARS!
Less photo ops, more food in the face.
New month, new goal: 8,000 steps a day. I know 10,000 is the real goal, but let’s be real: Taco Standard Time has arrived which means there’s zero available daylight and it’s about to get hella cold. . .8,000 is going to be enough of a challenge. I mean, it’s 5:33 in the pm and I’m only at 4,115 for the day. Nothing like failing 2 days in.
Soybeans, Too 