So, I’m in the kitchen just now getting a soup bowl full of vanilla ice cream (which I will promptly smother with chocolate syrup because somebody in this house insists on getting vanilla even though that choice is obviously wrong) because 1) it’s been a hell of a week, 2) we apparently threw out our corkscrews (?!?), 3) I’m watching the company picnic episode of The Office and sometimes you just need a bowl of ice cream while you get sniffly over how wonderful Jim and Pam are, 4) why am I even explaining this to you right now, I’m an adult lady who can make her own decisions and right now those decisions include a soup bowl of ice cream larger than my face. Haters to the left.
Anyway. I’m scooping out my treat and my little toe hits the button for the scale (why do we have the bathroom scale right by the fridge. Why. Terrible idea.). It beeped cheerfully at me. And then I shushed it. I shushed it saying, “shhh not yet shhhhhh just wait until morning*”.
Glad to be back, y’all.
*I have absolutely no intension of weighing myself then.