I Have Important Stuff To Do, Dammit

Keep It Like A Secret
Ahhhh, alone in the office! Time to turn up the Built to Spill. There are things filling up my to do list, but none pressing enough to actually do. I'm starting to have my aimless free-time panic again, (it is clear that I do not have enough free time, so that when I do stumble upon some, I treat it like the very special China dishes that we dare not actually use for eating, just looking at and taking up space*) where I fret about how to spend the free time and end up spending it fretting about how to best spend it. Not this time! I'm just going to do what comes naturally and then I will do the rest of the stuff tonight at home. New leaf, turned over.

So, I was in charge of ordering the lunch for a committee (that does not include me) meeting today, and I took the liberty of ordering an extra sandwich for me, and diet coke. It was totally premeditated, too, as I did not even pretend to pack a lunch. I brought an apple, but c'mon.

And just now, when I made a quick bank deposit, I swung into the Sonic and got another diet coke. Why all the diet cokes? I really, really like Diet Coke. And I really, really like the ice at Sonic.

If you don't live in the South (Sowf), you may not know what Sonic is-- it's a drive-up fast food joint, where you park your car, order, wait for the girl to walk your food out to you, and then eat over your steering wheel and carry the trash around with you in your back seat for six months. And at this Sonic, the carhop was about seven months pregnant, slinging cokes and tator tots in the 407-degree, melting heat. I really need to stop bitching about my steering wheel being too hot, because at least I work inside and I am not pregnant. I don't know thing one about that woman's situation, but stay in school, kids. And then go right back to school and right back after that if you have to, to keep yourself from pounding the pavement at the 8th Avenue Sonic. Because from the looks of it, it sucks the big one.

Guess what Bird can do!?!
Make the sign for "more." No, not kidding! Okay, she can't really tap her fists together, so she claps very deliberately, twice, and then opens her mouth up like, well, a Bird. It is so strange and wonderful to be communicating with her so directly. Now if we could just get an answer to, "How did you get that goose egg on your forehead at daycare?", we'd be all set.

Um, seriously.
You guys. My belly.

You will also love it.
I've been to Sweet Juniper and you can bet I'll be back. The writing is great and I loved the neighborhood tour. Maybe I'll be so inspired someday when it isn't skin-melting-hot outside and I'll do a tour of my little corner for you.

So, next time, I guess
I was going to post a photo of the earrings that A. got me for my b-day, but Blogger says no, so I will wait until it falls asleep in front of the television and steal its cigarettes from its purse. I mean, I will post the photo later.

Does anyone have a purse with cigarettes in it that is willing to fall asleep in front of the television so that I may steal one? I just want one.

*For the record, I do not own Very Special China that we Dare Not Use for Eating, because that is kind of fucked up and wasteful.