In my continued attempts at thin-nity, I am trying to eat only half a bagel today. This is criminal. I am also eating reduced-fat cream cheese and an antique tomato, as Ned would call it. Once he was getting food, and said, "I also picked up one of those antique tomatoes and it was delicious."
I pondered this for a second. "Do you mean heirloom tomatoes?"
"Oh, I guess I do."
Antique tomatoes. Anyway, given what I ate yesterday, a half bagel and your grandmother's tomato are in order. Ned bought a grill for my house, as my last one collapsed with exhuastion and dehydration, and yesterday we had hamburgers and I made potato salad (I know! Was cheffy this weekend) and we had corn on the cob and also 3943020202 Ruffles.
After our cookout action, we went to the movies, and saw Godzilla, and I will let you guess whose idea that was, but seeing as Ned spent 700 hours of his weekend doing manual labor at my house, I said yes, Godzilla sounds magnificent. And you know it was kind of entertaining? I thought Godzilla looked a little like Talu when she's pissed off. I don't know why they keep shooting at poor Godzilla when it clearly never works.
My point is, we had JUST eaten all that stuff, and then we got to the movies and I had nachos with jalapeños. Are you impressed with my accent mark? I learned how to do that at the Apple store.
I also learned how to italicize when I'm texting.
Then I came home and watched Mad Men and ate 44924929393 strawberries. Why the stubborn pounds?
I DID do half an hour of yoga yesterday, so I'm certain I burned all of that off. While I was doing shavasana, which is the part at the end of yoga where you just lie there like a lump (it's the best part), Edsel laid down next to me and put his paw in my hand. For Edsel, every move is LoveJuneshana.
Anyway, here it is the workweek again, and we can all wear white pants now, which is what matters.
Oh! I know what else I wanted to discuss. The other day at work I complained, "My meditation-a-day page is taking forever to download." Since I work in that delightfully serene open floor plan, I put on headphones and listen to meditation music that allegedly increases concentration. But that day it wouldn't open. You know, kind of like half the time you try to open this fucking blog.
"Wow, could that be more of a first-world problem?" I asked myself. The woman who sits on the other side of me (not all the time, like she's the right hand of God. Just at work) heard me, and mentioned the other day her husband said, "This is the slowest Keurig machine I've ever seen."
Yeah. That counts.
So then I told her I once heard a woman at the grocery store say, "This is the worst-maintained olive bar in town."
What're your most ridic first-world problems? Someone listening to our conversation (and who could AVOID listening to our conversation in that private private workspace?) said, "They're still problems, even if they're first world."
No, they aren't.
So tell me. In the meantime, I really need more summer-y pants. And new eyelash-curler pads.
P.S. Forgot to plug my Purple Clover article again. Here. They renewed my contract for another year, so could someone give me some effing topics to write about? It's getting hard to come up with topics each week. First worldly again, June.