I’ve had two hard workout days in a row, and I’m on a deadline/stress-train at work.
I am tired.
While fretting and typing and fretting and thinking and fretting and drinking decaf tea, I perked up to an embarrassing degree when “Love Don’t Cost a Thing” materialized on my iTunes. “Think I wanna drive your Benz, I don’t… Think I wanna floss, I got my own…”
I am ashamed.
Also, I might have convinced myself it was OK to eat a Three Musketeers snack-bite from the bowl on our HR director’s desk.
On my way to re-fill the aforementioned decaf teacup, I snagged the bite-sized foil package, tore it open with my teeth, popped the nugget in my mouth, sank my teeth into the chocolate cube… and immediately spit it – soggy and disfigured – into my palm.
It was sickeningly-sweet, smushy, warm, and all-together unappetizing.
It is now languishing in the trash where it belongs.
J.Lo still sounds pretty good, though.
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