Monday, November 9, 2009

Like a Little Bun in the Oven

Before I get to the genius realizations I have made in the past 7 hours, let me take a minute to explain how much I loathe parking garages. I spent a good 20 minutes this morning riding the elevator in my apartment building between P1, P2, and P3 trying to remember where I parked my car yesterday afternoon. I really just need an assigned spot. Would that be so hard?


What really bothered me was riding the elevator. 1 Floor elevator riders are already at the top of my pet peeve list, and unlike most of my pet peeves, it annoys me when I do this one.
For example, it's okay if I eat the last fudge-sicle and leave the empty box in the freezer, but if someone else does it, I will be seething for hours. On the contrary, I do not believe it is okay for me to ride elevators 1 floor. Probably because the stairs would be faster. There goes that instant gratification thing again.
Plus, there was a maintenance guy working on the tv in the garage. So he saw me go up and down the elevator 3 times before I found my car hiding behind a large Tahoe. 
I really wish people would quit parking their cars in front of mine and blocking the view.
The pterradactyl is quite a beaut.



Extreme annoyance was probably enhanced by the pounding headache my hangover was causing.
In true "I pretend to be professional but I love college" fashion, I decided to reward myself for my low key weekend by getting completely wrecked on a Sunday evening.
I mean, the Cowboys won, it was my friend's birthday, and there was a full bottle of Jameson. 
SHOTS, SHOTS, SHOTS, SHOTS, SHOTS, SHOTS, SHOTS, SHOTS
LMFAO #MusicMonday
Eating pizza dip and rice crispy treats for dinner probably didn't help my issues this morning.



By the way, I don't usually drink whiskey-ish liquor due to the fact that it makes my face swell.
Reasons to wear glasses to work:
1) appear intelligent

2) hide bloodshot eyes and fact that I am wearing no makeup
3) make swollen face look less so


So I finally am in the car and can head to Einstein's.
I usually just go for the cereal or oatmeal I keep in my "work pantry" aka my desk, but this morning I was on a mission for a bagel. A pumpernickel bagel and OJ to be precise.
I really think that hangovers can be likened to pregnancy, except that they go away without a $250 payment or a screaming, wrinkly souvenir.


I mean, let's talk about this.
You wake up nauseous. There's your morning sickness.
  Bloating, fatigue, and irritability may also occur.
When morning sickness subsides, you are extremely hungry. For weird shit.
Pumpernickel?
What in the world is appealing about almost-black bread? 
Not that I'm a bagel racist or anything. 


Next meal? 
pizza, spinach, and sun chips.
w.t.f?


I'm already hungry again, too.


Although the alcohol baby is good for something. I don't want to endanger it by getting my heart rate up too high--better skip the evening run. It also gives me time to think of cute celebrity-inspired baby names.



I was thinking Jameson Pumpernickel.
That's unisex, right?

See you suckers later.

I'll be on maternity leave for the next 6 weeks.




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