blegh/urgh
2004-05-25, 5:04 p.m.

Blegh. I had my quarterly quota of fast food last night, because Spouse craved a Whopper. Glurgy, yucky gut all night. I no longer crave fast food at all, because it has my brain no longer associates the yumminess of yore with the slop you get at the drive-thru today. I came to the firm realization that they no longer sell food I want to eat, even if the product names remain.

Spouse, however, still thinks, every time, that he's gonna luck out and get food that is as good as it was when he was a kid. To me, this is particularly puzzling, as he is in the meat industry, and the machines he builds and services are designed to accommodate the pasty grossness that passes for hamburger patties today. He's in and out of meat plants constantly, and has even commented to me about the freakiness of seeing thousands of pounds of ground beef sitting there with absolutely no sign of blood. But when it comes to fast food, he's still a freakin' optimist every time. Or maybe it's his gambler's heart. Whichever, it was me who paid the price. At least we've gotten to the point where he only gets these cravings about four times a year. But next time he wants that crap, I'm just gonna have a bowl of cereal. Triple-Berry Oatmeal Crisp.

Picked up Raj at the kennel yesterday; she was still wet from her bath, so now my car reeks of wet dog smell. I'm going to Febreze the hell out of it when I get home tonight. My poor baby was an exhausted wreck. She wandered through the house, trying out each of her comfy spots in turn. Finally collapsed smack in the middle of my bed. At least she got up at 10:00 to go out, so I was able to reclaim it. She'll be sleepy for a day or two more, I'm sure.

I had a moment of the foody's greatest joy today...I turned somebody on to a good thing. I brought in my Seroogy's Gourmet Ginger Thins and blew D's mind. I told her how good they were, but until she tried them, she couldn't know the perfect, spicy bliss. Unfortunately, I'm down to my last four cookies. And at $4.99 for a box of 12 little cookies, it is a pricey habit. But daaAAaamn! I gotta have more. They aren't listed on the website, but I will email them anyway and see what can be done. Seriously, these are phenomenal. Gotta get more.

I'm about ready to kick a certain co-irker right in the pants. The front of his pants.

I cannot believe all the crap he gets away with; anyone else would have lost his or her job by now. My personal opinion is that affirmative action is involved. But I've been taking up the slack for him for so long I just want a shot at him on my own terms. Can you say Deathmatch?

I just realized that I still have W's copy of "Rupi's Dance"; man I gotta return that. And I have to pick up the Spouse on my way home, as he's dropping off the GP at the dealer. His car is making some seriously weird noise when you apply the brakes--and he ain't happy. I'll have to drop him at work tomorrow, too. Which sucks up all my morning "me" time. Which, when I don't get it, makes me a crabby-ass. So I'm already crabby just thinking about it. Urgh.

Start with "Blegh", end with "Urgh". Yep, that's about right.