the sunday creeps
Why is it so hot in here? And why does everything smell like hamburger?
It could very well be a lovely day outside. The open window's the only gauge I have.
I'm a bit worried about the hamburgeriness of the weekends around here. Someone is clearly a fan. Either that, or I'm on the edge of an epileptic fit with a hamburger-scented trigger. Maybe Dr. Penfield can help me. Canadians will know what I mean. Won't they?
On Friday night, it was clearly a Hamburger Helper night somewhere in the building. I couldn't tell whether it was "Lasagna" or "Cheeseburger Macaroni," my father's favorite. The last time I was driving through Minneapolis, I accidentally took a wrong turn and ended up at Betty Crocker HQ. If it hadn't been a Saturday morning, I would have stormed in the front door and given them a piece of my mind. Someone has to pay for the name and the concept of "Suddenly Salad." It's pasta and vegetables! Although not naturally instantaneous, is it so hard to do without the aid of a fictional housewife?
No more complaints, though. It's hardly a good psychic start for the week.
At least one accomplishment for the weekend:
4. The pleasure of my company / by Steve Martin. A lovely little book that you can finish in a weekend. Try and not identify with the main character. I dare you. Some people can't cross streets, others can't leave odd numbers of things in the fridge.
It could very well be a lovely day outside. The open window's the only gauge I have.
I'm a bit worried about the hamburgeriness of the weekends around here. Someone is clearly a fan. Either that, or I'm on the edge of an epileptic fit with a hamburger-scented trigger. Maybe Dr. Penfield can help me. Canadians will know what I mean. Won't they?
On Friday night, it was clearly a Hamburger Helper night somewhere in the building. I couldn't tell whether it was "Lasagna" or "Cheeseburger Macaroni," my father's favorite. The last time I was driving through Minneapolis, I accidentally took a wrong turn and ended up at Betty Crocker HQ. If it hadn't been a Saturday morning, I would have stormed in the front door and given them a piece of my mind. Someone has to pay for the name and the concept of "Suddenly Salad." It's pasta and vegetables! Although not naturally instantaneous, is it so hard to do without the aid of a fictional housewife?
No more complaints, though. It's hardly a good psychic start for the week.
At least one accomplishment for the weekend:
4. The pleasure of my company / by Steve Martin. A lovely little book that you can finish in a weekend. Try and not identify with the main character. I dare you. Some people can't cross streets, others can't leave odd numbers of things in the fridge.