the kitchen says my bread is molded

i'm having a case of the thursdays when I get to my car to drive to work this morning, i notice my left rear door is a bit sticky as I open it. I close & reopen it again, looking to see why it's sticky. Oh, look at that. there's some goop or something on my car door. sticky with white specks. weird. but wait, there's more. there's also a smattering of some of that goop all along the left side of my car, the side facing the street. Is there more of this stuff? I look a little more left and find loads more goop covering my left mirror and frozen dripping down my door. but there's so much of this stuff, it's yellow that's right. someone egged my car. I do a quick csi-themeatic analysis of the evidence and figure there were 3 eggs that hit my car -- one on my back door and two on my mirror. They were done drive-by style: I can tell by the pattern of splashed egg guts. There are some leftover chunks of shell on my hood. And it's all sticky. no biggie. there's no chance i'll find out who did it. and at the very least, some kids actually had fun late night in San Jose. heaven forbid. oh, and then on the way to work i spilled my drink on myself and didn't realize it until i asked myself "why does the underside of my leg feel warm? weird. oh well. ... wait, it shouldn't feel warm, should it? hmm..." crank it to eleven

you're going the wrong way

unfortunately all i seem to ever have time for is the long-story-short stories. Anyways, long story short, this past weekend was spent with Debbie in Redlands, and it was truly amazing. Working today felt a bit weird. It was back to the pre-weekend grind, except with the lingering memory of the weekend. Everyone acted like nothing had happened. Like they didn't know how awesome the weekend was. Well, i mean, they didn't. And it was an enjoyable secret to keep. like the inside joke that you can't help but laugh out loud too but it's too complex to explain. inside jokes rule.