Overslept by almost an hour. The funny thing about staying in bed without setting another alarm is that it’s kind of like winning the lottery– you’re almost completely sure to realize how shitty it is later, but in the moment nothing– nothing– is more glorious.
Actually, scratch that, I think winning the lottery would be slightly more glorious. It’s early in the morning, thinking is hard.
Anyways, I was completely prepared to get railed –again– for being late in the passive-aggressive, “not upset just concerned” way the world seems to use after you hit year 22 or so, but I got to work on time, went through some mindless tasks, and got out on time.
This blog is so interesting.
I got home and after about an hour of mindlessly watching Futurama and playing Assassin’s Creed (3. Haven’t caught up yet. Very tired of tri-corner hats.)* I warmed up the cobbler I made January 1st, the perfect first night of 2014.
And it was Shit-in-your-fucking-pants perfect. And in that moment, of shoveling blueberries and peaches and the most delicious sugar cookie crust in my mouth standing up by the stove… I realized I am going to get really, really fat this year.
And also that everything’s going to be really, really phat.
Far out maybe.
I literally had to force my spoon hand away from my mouth with my other hand to stop myself long enough to take this photo. I hope you understand the sacrifices that are made in the name of art.
Eat your heart out.
Get it? Cause it’s a heart dish?
You people, why do I even try?
*come at me, boys