Wednesday, May 23, 2007

Contrary to Popular Belief...

According to some co-workers, hitting a bird is 7 days bad luck. Man, if someone had told me this on Friday I would have been BUMMED. As it turned out, it wasn't bad luck for me. Just the bird.

Seven pm on Friday marked the beginning of a whirlwind weekend that was full of 21-year-old activities that probably shouldn't have been tried again as a 29-year-old. That said, it was so. much. fun. I will have to write more about the weekend when I have recovered...I think I'm actually still asleep.

Now for today's top story...

C-Money, El Jefe, and I had lunch at Tra Vigne's little cafe...we were craving paninis and they hit the spot. The day is amazing - probably about 87 or so - so we sat outside at a little bistro table. Talk about having a hard time coming back. Conversation bounced from "what are military boys like?" to El Jefe giving his opinion on a precarious situation C-Money has found herself in. The food was delicious, the conversation not so much. Back at the office, C-Money and I were reflecting on this precarious situation, giving credit to El Jefe for being right, and then we decided we needed chocolate.

I scrounged up my change and headed to the vending machine with a fistful of dimes, nickels, and quarters. I first got C-Money's super-sized Hershey's bar with Almonds, then fed the machine the last of my change for my super-sized Reese's. Bet you can guess what happened next - my best-friend-turned-enemy vending machine DIDN'T DROP MY CANDY. When I need chocolate, I need chocolate. I shook the machine, banged on it, making quite a racket in the lunch room. Head hanging low, I walked back to the cave to tell C-Money what happened. She was suddenly fired up, said "I have some aggression I need to get out" and we stormed back to the lunch room to attack the vending machine. Little did I know, C-Money had grabbed a letter opener, all set to knock the little piece of heaven from its ring of death, but that didn't work. Not one to let a little obstacle defeat her, she rocked the sucker side to side and, lo and behold, I am equipped with 340 calories and 19g grams of fat, all bundled up into chocolate and peanut butter goodness. I owe her my soul.

Cheers to Reese's and recovery weeks!

1 comment:

CL Smooth said...

I try and tell people that I'm freakishly strong. Maybe NOW they will believe me!