Howdy doo, Internet.
‘Howdy doo’ isn’t something I say in my real life, by the way. Or at least I don’t think I do, unless I’m hyper, then God only knows why such random stuff flies from my brain to my mouth.
So, anyway. Hello. It’s Wednesday, a relatively crappy day here in North Carolina. We don’t have many crappy – and by crappy I mean chilly and overcast – days in this state, but I feel like we’ve had a long succession of them lately.
Believe it or not, when I was in Pennsylvania last week for Thanksgiving, the weather was actually quite nice. Upper 50’s and sunny the whole time. I didn’t even bother to take a coat. Usually I have to batten down the proverbial hatches when I head up there, but not this time.
Also a first for the annual trek to Pennsylvania: no traffic! No traffic up and no traffic back. Twas awesome. We left at 2:30 on Wednesday afternoon to get to Jason’s, and we left at 7:00 Saturday evening from my parents’. We made excellent time each leg of the trip.
Want another Thanksgiving first? Okay! Babies! Two of them! Two beautiful, lovable, huggable, kissable babies. I held them and changed their diapers and put outfits on them and rocked them to sleep and fed them bottles… and was so glad to hand them back to their parents and head home to my childless house. Those little, itty, bitty human beings are a shit ton of work! But, man are they sweet. So, so sweet.
Okay, so I’m a Pepsi addict. Did you know that? No? Now you do! I love Pepsi. I try not to drink it too terribly often, but I still drink too much of it. Something salty? Need a Pepsi. Something with cheese? Need a Pepsi. Tacos? Pizza? Definitely need a Pepsi!
On Monday morning the corporate cafeteria was out of oatmeal, so I got some greasy, salty breakfast potatoes. Which meant that I needed a Pepsi. I bopped on over to the vending machine, it sucked up my dollar and spit out a WARM Pepsi. Yuk. So I stuck it in the fridge and tried my damndest to enjoy the taters minus the fizzy goodness of Pepsi.
Then at lunch today, I had a grilled cheese and mashed potatoes. Grilled CHEESE. It called for a Pepsi. So, again, I visited my local vending machine, fed it a dollar and this time, a cold Pepsi came out. Yesssss. I unscrewed the lid and, instead of hearing a whoosh of carbon, I heard a dull fizzle. I checked the cap and, sure enough, the bottle expired 23 days prior.
I think it’s a sign from the Universe that I need to stop drinking so much damn Pepsi.