I have potted plants. And a cat. These are things people have. I have a microwave that I can never seem to keep clean and an oven I can never seem to get lit. I have exactly four sweaters and seven pairs of pants. Three pairs of shoes; though Sheila (I have a friend Sheila) says that three pairs of shoes is scandalously few. "You can't possibly have enough for every outfit and every occasion," Sheila says.
I wake up a little later than I should each morning, go to sleep a touch too late. I am pretty much addicted to Conan O'Brien, though I don't personally find him as "terribly gorgeous" as Sheila does.
I used to have a boyfriend, but I kept forgetting to call him back. I guess, after a while, so did he. Sheila's always dragging me to bars to find me the perfect man but all I seem to find are CPAs and pillow droolers. Nothing worse than waking up with a wet ear. I tell my mom I haven't given up hope, but I'm not sure if that's a lie or what.
I just got a new winter coat, though soon it will be tucked away until next November. I found it at one of those end-of-season sales at the mall and just couldn't pass it up. There were also a pair of really cute mittens that matched it, but the gloves I have are just fine for now. I'm usually only going from my front door to my car and then across the parking lot at work into the office anyways. My hands can deal.
At work, I have a picture of my brother's daughter, Aura, and my little sister's boy, Timothy. I have a pad of Post-It notes that Sheila gave me which say, "A Message from God." I've been too embarrassed to use them. I have a coffee mug from Busch Gardens from when I went there with a guy I used to be seeing. I have a pile of pencils I use and a pile of pencils I chew on. I don't throw any of them away, so I have a bunch of little nubs and a bunch with little pock marks. I recently requisitioned an electric sharpener.
Each day, on the drive home from work, I pick up one lotto ticket and one pack of Twizzlers. I have a weakness for both and I'm sure, somehow, one or the other will be the death of me. I quit smoking a few years back, though, so I figure I need some sort of vice. Sheila says I should just use the lotto money to buy a second pack of Twizzlers, that that'd make me happier. I simply reply, "What about my figure?" or "We'll see if I share my winnings with you."
I'm very excited about this new noodle cookbook I also bought when I went to the mall but I haven't made anything from it yet. Sheila's friend Robin is coming up from Glenview next weekend -- maybe I can make something from it for the three of us. I'm actually a pretty good cook when I put my mind to it. I make a pretty mean lasagna and my quiches are none too shabby.