Today involved v. little work, and that wasn't entirely my fault. I had a doctor's appointment this morning; that blood test that I had last week (before the hepatitis booster and the tuberculosis test) came back, and the good news is that almost everything is perfect. The only non-perfect thing is my cholesterol, which I suppose is to be expected since most of my family has high cholesterol and all of my favorite foods used to be capable of locomotion--and the tastier they are, the more cholesterol they have. It's such a tragedy. I suppose that means that I would be tasty if I were killed, which provides me with some strange measure of comfort. So for the most part, I tried to be healthy today; I had fish for lunch and I made a surprisingly-delicious vegetarian chili tonight, so that was all good. The problem was that my team at work had a cookie exchange. Under the rules of the cookie exchange, everyone brings several dozen cookies, and then we all take two or three of everyone else's cookies. This is great in theory. In practice, however, I usually get screwed. I make awesome cookies--my chocolate chip chewies rival my grandmother's, and the undeniable lure of their siren's call makes them a dangerous fourth roommate in my apartment. Claudia, Terry and I can easily go through an entire pan in a couple of days, and we all feel rather disgusting about it, but we're like crack addicts when it comes to chocolate chip chewies. Clearly I can't consume them during pregnancy or else my child will come out with all the symptoms of fetal alcohol syndrome and I'll lose the kid.
Anyway, cookie exchanges are bad news for me. Most people end up bringing store-bought cookies because they forgot to bake. Alternatively, the only time they bake all year is during the cookie exchange, and so their cookies aren't quite right (or are horribly wrong). There were several batches of cookies that were very tasty, but it didn't seem fair that I had to trade two batches of chocolate chip chewies for a weird assortment of storebought cookies and not-quite-right attempts at culinary mastery. Oh, well, I didn't want to eat the cookies anyway, so Claude is pawning them off on her coworkers tomorrow.
So back to work. The doctor's appointment was this morning, and I didn't make it to the office until 11:30. As I was getting on the freeway, I remembered that my cookies were still in my kitchen, which was frustrating. I went to work anyway since I was only five minutes from my office, and did some stuff until my one-on-one with my manager. Then, I had a quick lunch and drove home to pick up the cookies. I made it back in time for the cookie exchange, proceeded to exchange cookies, and then worked for a couple of hours until it was time to go home. At home, I watched the original 'Willy Wonka' on TV while eating my vegetarian chili. I also got a quick and entertaining call from Katie, who has a final tomorrow morning and so took out her frustration on me by reminding me of some particularly unsavory visuals stemming from those halcyon days at the convenience store in high school. Ew! Now, with visions of some disgusting woman's fat, sagging, naked breast hanging out of the side of her wifebeater while she scratches off a lottery ticket indelibly scrawled across my consciousness, I think I'll go to bed. It's like that Kafka story 'In the Penal Colony', where the method of punishment/execution is to use needles to carve words related to the prisoner's crime into his flesh--whenever I think I've forgotten that awful memory, Katie calls me up and reminds me, making the blood of my horror run anew. Thanks Katie! You're the best, and I hope that you get the grade you deserve on your final :)
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