I'm blaming it on all the sandwich talk on The Collective this week, but last night I drove half an hour out of my way to get a Panther Paw from this little deli by my old office. I mean, really it's just a ham sandwich on a croissant but YOU GUYS, it is SO GOOD. And they give you a free pickle there. Any place that gives you a free pickle with your sandwich is fine by me. Actually, I think you should get a free pickle everywhere, but that's just me.
After I devoured my Panther Paw (and pickle), I was really bored because Heidi wasn't home and I'd finished the Arrested Development disc I was watching and was too lazy to switch it to the next one. So I thought, "hey! I shall go to Target!" Because we were almost out of toilet paper and one of my absolute worst fears is running out of toilet paper. If you run out, WHAT DO YOU DO? You can't just not wipe, that's disgusting. Wow, shut up, Jennie.
Also, Phoebe was almost out of cat food. For some reason, she eats every day. I'm not sure what's wrong with her. I'll check with the vet.
I think I was at Target for 12 years. I sent the following texts while there:
Kid in Target is singing Barney. I can kick?
Mom just told her kid to shut up. Ha!
Mmm, Easter candy.
It really was annoying child day at Target, though. Although, is there any other kind of child? Ha! ZING! I'm kidding. I don't find all children annoying, just the annoying ones.
Anyway, where was I? OH. Target. While I was there, I decided to buy some cheap organizy office supplies so I could organize my desk at home. See, at work, my desk is super organized and I know where everything is and if someone moves something I stab them in the neck. But at home? All bets are off. There's all manner of crap stacked ALL OVER THE DAMN PLACE and I think the reason I never want to sit down and write is because it's such an unpleasant environment. You know, because a stack of paper might fall on me and cut me and that's dangerous because what if those tiny paper cuts get infected? Huh? How am I supposed to explain that one to the doctor?
BUT. I bought file organizers and paper trays and a pencil cup and now my desk at home resembles my desk at work instead of an office supply explosion site. Which I'm pretty sure doesn't exist. At least not anymore. You know, on account of I CLEANED MY DESK. Although, I give it a week before it looks like a disaster area again. And that's being generous.