Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Woe, c'est moi!

Tonight, I cried over cinnamon.

Those near and dear to me know that when I am hungry, I cry. When I am getting sick, haven't eaten in 8 hours, frustrated with a hyper dog who just needs attention! attention!, home late due to a broken bus, leaving in 11 hours for a trip for which I have not packed, have an apartment to clean so the dogsitters don't declare us unfit puppy-parents, and desperately want some homemade chicken noodle soup but lack the time and energy to make it, and so make due with some applesauce for which I simply want some cinnamon, and yet the cinnamon is not where it should be! Well then... then I cry. Even while I realize how ridiculous I am. Throughout it all, I just kept thinking, "If Peter were here, HE would know where the cinnamon was!" (In fact he did. He knew it was at school where he took it for a cooking project for his students. Boo.)

Now, my stomach is full(er), the apartment is somewhat picked up, I had an excellent snuggle with Jasper (he really is the best snuggle-dog in the world), and I have exactly two shirts and two pairs of underwear packed. And I think I am going to give myself a freaking break and drive to work rather than try to catch the ass-early bus and attempt to get everything else done before 6 AM. Yes, I think I shall give myself a freaking break.

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