2/08/2008

Marshmallows

I start actually working only after I check my ten email accounts.

Ten, you ask? Couldn’t you just funnel everything into your Gmail? Yes, I suppose I could, but then the penis enlargement emails would mix with the Lebow Weekly Digest and the coupons to Borders and then I’d get all confused.

I ripped the foil/paper hybrid packet open and dumped its powdery goodness into the cup where my tea had just been. How the fuck do they even make those packets?
Amazing.

Just add water.

That’s how manufacturers make things Jai-proof. Biscuits, just add water, stir. Pancakes, just add water, stir. Hot chocolate, just add water, stir. Plants, just add water, *do not* stir. Hypothermia on New Years, just add water, shake it baby.

Sip.

Needs more… sugar. (hey, it’s Friday of a long week. Let me enjoy a double choco-sugar-seizure.)

So I ripped open another packet and dumped it in. Take that, Atkins! (side note: Dr. Atkins, inventor of the Atkin’s no-carb diet, died of a heart attack. I would say that’s ironic being that he’s a doctor, but it’s not at all. Heart attacks are exactly what happen to people who make entire meals of mayonnaise-y bacon while they risk scurvy with their lack of fruit intake).

My eyes darted to the tub of marshmallows. What’s hot chocolate without marshmallows? There was a spoon in there for sanitary scooping, but then I would have to fork over one small ‘mallow at a time. I reached to the bottom with my grubby hand figuring that by the time someone gets to the bottom of the jar with their sanitary spoon, the germs would have died. Right? Right?

I return to my desk. Five new emails. Ballz.

Is this what adults do? -sit at their desk with their coffee cups, reading email after email, pondering what to make for dinner. (Think that cheese is still good?) Well, you will find no sensible heels under my desk. No. Instead you will find dirty sneakers. I give it another year or two before these literally fall off my feet. Feet sheathed in striped tube socks from the hippy store. Maybe a gum wrapper. Stupid kids with their hip pop; I’m listening to Polysics.

I don’t think I’m going to grow up yet.

Not me, I put marshmallows in my coffee cup.

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