I found this on another blog…liked it…copied it…read it…end of story.
Eating: Roasted brussels sprouts and sweet potato. My brussels sprout addiction has come back in full force. I had them for lunch, then tried to tell myself I couldn’t have them for dinner but I caved and had them again. Here’s how this will go: I’ll eat brussels sprouts for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snack time until I never want to see them again.
Hey, there’s worse things to be addicted too. Like crack cocaine or M&Ms.
(sidenote: Is it brussels (w/an S) sprouts or brussel sprouts? I’m to lazy to look it up. Don’t judge.
Still fantasizing about: Never having to work another day in my life, living the luxurious life in Italy, oh and these.
Running: 5 miles on the treadmill and listened to the same song the whole time. Obnoxious? Whateves.
You know what else is obnoxious? The girl on the treadmill next to me peaking over to see my pace and mileage.
Really lady? Realllly? I stayed on the treadmill until she got off hers….Keep your eyes on your own treadmill. I’m competitive. sorryimnotsorry.
Seeing: Beautiful fall leaves all over the streets. I love it. love love love it.
Smelling: My pumpkin candle mixed with roasted brussels sprouts. Hmm odd?
Feeling: a little bit stressed but overall happy.
Wishing: It was Friday at 5:00. Come on weekend.
Quoting: This. More A m a z i n g-ness.
“as she laughed i was aware of becoming involved
in her laughter and being part of it, until her
teeth were only accidental stars with a talent
for squad-drill. i was drawn in by short gasps,
inhaled at each momentary recovery, lost finally
in the dark caverns of her throat, bruised by
the ripple of unseen muscles. an elderly waiter
with trembling hands was hurriedly spreading
a pink and white checked cloth over the rusty
green iron table, saying: “if the lady and
gentleman wish to take their tea in the garden,
if the lady and gentleman wish to take their
tea in the garden …” i decided that if the
shaking of her breasts could be stopped, some of
the fragments of the afternoon might be collected,
and i concentrated my attention with careful
subtlety to this end.”
-t.s. eliot, “hysteria.