2004-05-25 - 11:22 a.m.
I get certain fliers in my email inbox. These are Gap.com, OldNavy.com, VictoriasSecret.com, and now I�m getting Cracker Barrel�s. Now...if I frequent that last one, I won�t be able to �afford� the other ones physically. Now, who are we kidding? I can�t financially afford any of them. What I meant by physically affording them was if I frequent Cracker Barrel, I will become 400 pounds and won�t fit into the ridiculous sizes of VictoriasSecret.com, etc.
I finally went there for the first time ever to Cracker Barrel. I didn�t realize it was really good until my food was finally settled in my stomach two days later. I say two days not to be a smart ass, but because I apparently was not paying attention to the buttermilk biscuit overload that I sustained. They offered to bring us a basket full aimed for the kids who kept saying they were hungry. My ass ate two of them. I then went on to order sausage gravy with biscuits...again that means, the buttermilk biscuits. There were three of them. I struggled down one and a half, because...I also ordered �toast� with apple butter, which they understood to be TWO MORE buttermilk fucking biscuits which I ate. So, really it took two days to get over it. I came out of Cracker Barrel originally feeling like I hated it and never wanted to go back cuz I was so stuffed. Damn buttermilk biscuits. And they are made with REAL buttermilk. Because the first instant I tasted them, they tasted kinda sour, like buttermilk and I didn�t like them...but then you like the taste and you eat all that are set in front of you. My kids think it�s so cool that I order them breakfast for dinner.
I have a lot to do this week. My errands are really cutting into my work time. Today, I have the Kindergarten commencement exercises. Then, school is tonight. Then, Jimmy�s teeth cleaning appt. is Wednesday at 1 p.m. and then my nephew�s birthday party is that night at 7 p.m. (which means I won�t get to work out for way too long since I skipped all of last week, a dangerous factor once I ate the buttermilk biscuits). Then, Thursday, Stephanie�s 2nd grade class is having their end of year party at the city�s swimming pool. It would be fun and all if I didn�t have to work. I would have had to go to another party on Wednesday in the afternoon, but it was a boy in Chloe�s class and thankfully, you know how they are opposed to boys at this age. Actually, she�s not, but she decided she didn�t HAVE to go if I couldn�t take her. Oh, so, Thursday...I�m hoping the one mom that is sort of running it wouldn�t mind taking my daughters for the afternoon, but now that I think about it, I have to go to school that night...so...I guess I�m just going to miss a lot of work once again. Dammit.
When I was looking online at Old Navy�s specials, I saw so many damn cute things. I love the Hawaiian print board shorts. And the little tank tops for the girls, etc. And I decided that I�m going to need a tote bag that goes with anything cuz I always find myself carrying lots of crap. Cuz, like there�s ALWAYS a book, and my keys are a big collection of key rings and hook things...then there�s money, of course, and whatever the kids hand me while I�m standing around. And the girls want backpacks, so there�s these flimsy fabric backpacks that are cheap and can be just for the summer until I buy their back-to-school for-real backpacks. Cuz they are always carrying lots of crap too. And I plan on going to the beach a lot. And our pool. I can�t forget we have a pool. It belongs to the whole apartment, but who cares? It�s a pool with cool water in it and chaise lounges to sit in the sun and it feels so good. I don�t think I could ever leave a warm climate. My only other idea for a residence would be Arizona or New Mexico. Maybe California if they weren�t so problematic with their earthquakes and water shortages and blackouts, and highly expensive lifestyles/cost of living. New Mexico is more my price range. They are way cheap out there. I�m going to move out of Fort Myers one of these days. I�ll probably move to Naples in December and then move out of state a few to several years after that. My mom will cry, but I don�t care anymore. I mean, she needs to get over it.
My face is oily today and my co-worker said something about me getting sun lately and looking younger and shiny...I told her it was my puberty look. The Greasebag Heather look. Kmmmm. Oh well. Bye for now.
