Supermarket Sweep (Photo credit: rickh710)
I feel as if I just won Willy Wonka’s Golden Ticket (is the song in your head now?), the food lottery, and the Bonus Sweep on Supermarket Sweep (if THIS song is in your head, you get bonus points) – all rolled into one.
I, my friends, just ate a ripe avocado on my lunch break.
Now, I don’t know where you’re from, but around here, ripe avocados aren’t too plentiful. I check the grocery store weekly, and the barrel of avocado pears (or dinosaur eggs, as my boyfriend refers to them) are totally mushy or helpless. But not today’s. This one was RIPE, man. I’m talkin’ 3 blended hues of luscious emerald, a small pit making room for more avocado goodness, zero brown spots, and the perfect potion of firmness and give. Nothing at all like the typical gnarly brown pigmented disappointment.
So, I said, get in my belly, you incredible monounsaturated fat. And then I added some diced cherry tomatoes and lemon juice, forked it, mixed it up, and put it on my paper plate.
And then ate it along side my frozen bean burrito. Which felt so wrong.
Whenever I am in a stairwell and I hear anyone else enter said stairwell, I automatically assume I’m about to be murdered. Unfortunately I also believe in taking the stairs whenever possible to work out the ol’ gluteus maximus. So, as usual, I just ran up 3 flights of stairs like an idiot, in a skirt, at work. Oh, and I’m pretty sure my potential attacker turned out to be the super nice maintenance man. Dang it. But, it could have been tiny Grandma Pearl for all I knew, and I still would have ran like my life depended on it (well, my glutes depended on it, anyhow).
I know I can’t be the only one with this (ir)rational fear. Of course, I blame Law and Order. My active imagination may also have something to do with it. At least the stairs at work aren’t the kind with openings beneath each step that lead to the abyss below, just waiting for someone to grab your ankles.
Quick. Someone say something not terrifying.
Oh, I know. Here is our cat. Falling asleep. In a pan. Because that’s totally normal. And hygienic.
The day after I started ScantilyGlad, this P.F. Chang’s fortune cookie solidified my blogging career.