This morning I am fasting, because I seek spiritual enlightenment. Or, alternatively, they are doing medical testing on us at work to see if we are dying. It's a whole insurance thing.
Remember when I did this a few years back? They gave me a whole report on my health, including a little chart for visual reference. I just spent five minutes of my precious, important time trying to FIND that chart for you, because it was a bar chart that showed everything was in the Very Good range till it got to nutrition and then it went off the chart past Awful.
I couldn't find the damn thing, but I did find this picture. Which is what matters.
Have you ever gone on Google Images and just typed in ByeByePie? Probably not, because you are not obsessed with me. But do it. Or type byebyepie + June or byebyepie + Ned or byebyepie + whatever word you think of, and there are a frightening number of photographs of me and my loved ones and also Marvin.
BAH! Kidding, Marvin.
Oh, but speaking of things I've thrown over, how do you like m'new look? We are still working on what I want the pie at the very top to look like, but I like the fonts and the blue for links and the little fruits at the side. Insert homophobic joke here, which once again I would do but I'm on a fast and cannot think of anything but food.
This sucks, by the way, and what I like about myself is that on any normal day, I'd have only had coffee at this point, but now because I can't have anything I want coffee and a large slice of strawberry pie, which let's face it could have everything to do with my damn new blog design, which will probably make me crave pie constantly and then I'll get fat.
Does my new blog design make me look fat?
Clearly Ima* die of hunger and thirst before I get fat, while I wait for this test to take place, which does not happen until the late, late hour of 8:45 a.m. There is no way I can make it that long. I might faint right here at this desk.
I think I would make a really good soldier. Might look into that.
In the meantime, yesterday when I was still able to do luxurious things like sip water and so on, I had to leave work, schlep over to dog daycare, get TinaDoris' dog Penny, take her home, then scream to the library to do my tutoring by 6:00. It was a relaxing hour, is what it was, and I had a cappuccino from the library for dinner. Nutrish!
When I got to dog daycare, Penny ran right up to the window because she somehow knew I was there for her. She really is the smartest dog. What with my fine sense of direction, I missed the turn to her house, but I knew I was headed back in the right direction when she started crying at the window, so I knew she must recognize home. That dog could probably do trigonometry.
I took her into her cute little backyard, where she sniffed EVERY BLADE OF GRASS before deciding which would be the best pee spot, then I took her inside, where she screamed over to her toys that are in a bin under a table. I was loath to leave her, but I had to go teach my student about Venn Diagrams, and when's the last time you used one of those?
Now I want onion rings. Or Funyuns. Did you ever see that Onion article:
Anyway, after I tutored my student, I was headed home and I passed Ned! He was out doing his exercise-y things and there he was on the street, walking. Like a streetwalker but not exactly.
When I got home, Ned called me. "Were you on the cheatin' side of town? What were you doing, driving down there?"
"I was coming home from the library. You know I had my student."
"Yeah, but that's not how you get home from the library,"
"Yes, it is,"
"It isn't, June."
And that's when I had to admit to Ned that the only way I know how to get home from the library is to drive to his house a few blocks away and pretend I'm going home from there. Because, fine sense of direction. Maybe when I become a soldier I'll be in charge of maps and starving. The war is won!
I had better try to pull this weak carcass of a foodless person up off this chair and shakily drive to work. I hope I don't just BLACK OUT on the way, what with the hours and hours of fasting I've been doing. Maybe this will stave off my shingles. Feed a cold, starve a shingle. I think that's how it goes, right?
Talk at you.
Your empty pal,
*I'd like to take this time to clarify for you what "Ima" means. It is short for "I'm gonna." So when you write and say "Ima so happy you blogged today June," you are saying "I'm gonna so happy you blogged today, June." Which makes no sense. I am glad we had this talk.