Category — Drawing on Walls

So, Edamame? Mmmmmm.

But here is my question?

Are soybeans and lima beans somehow related?

It doesn’t have to be like full-on chlorophyll relation. They could be halves or something. But they taste very similar. (In my opinion. I don’t want to offend.) They both warm my heart and tummy equally.

Today is Good Friday. If it’s a day that has meaning for you, Happy Good Friday!

Sunday is Easter. If it’s a day that has meaning for you, Happy Easter! Here’s wishing you a hopping bunny with exceptional dark chocolate treats… and maybe a little white chocolate.

Did you know that tomorrow, March 22nd, is a very important holiday as well? It gets so lost in the midst of the religious, well-advertised ones on either side.

So, for those who celebrate the occasion… on a bed… with a friend… dressed in panties and a short t-shirt…

Happy National Pillow Fight Day!

Clearly it’s popular or there wouldn’t be fifty different brands available, with an average of five different options or so at every gas station. Soda makers would stick to carbonated beverages and wouldn’t feel the need to get in on the action if bottled water weren’t such a big seller.

But is bottled water really worth the money?

Considering the fact that they just did a study on city water supplies, and found traces of prescription drugs in all of them, one might say, “Sure, buy bottled and avoid being medicated every time you drink from the tap.” Of course, there is no real way of knowing for sure what companies are using as the source for their bottled water. They all say that they are bottling from ‘natural springs’, etc., but are they really? It’s possible. It’s also possible they are just using the hose in their gardens.

So, let’s forget hypothetical health benefits, and stick with what we can know for sure.

Does bottled water taste better?

That question could be wholly dependent on where you live and what the water supply is like. I’ve lived in several states, and I can say this…

I’m an absolute victim of psychology. I drink bottled when I can.

7 a.m.

Work looms… like the cruel giant that guards the fortress of happiness.

I would rather go to the dentist, the gyno, or a funeral. Seriously.

I mean, I don’t want someone to actually have to die for the cause, but I consider searching for local obituaries, closing my eyes, randomly pointing, and making whoever my finger lands on my great uncle, or aunt, as the case may be.

So many days have been like this. I wake up, I get dressed, just to spend all day doing something that I don’t want to do, with nary a moment to explore the things I do want to do. Then, people look at me and shake their heads and don’t understand why I can’t see all the happiness and beauty in life.

My sincerest apologies.

Why am I here? That is the question. Sadly, I know the answer. It’s the same reason that I spent the entirety of last evening working on a half-assed paper for a class I couldn’t care less about.

I am here in the name of debt reduction.

It’s my own fault really. The debt is something that I did myself. So, I have to work a shit job and take classes for the sole purpose of getting loan money, which allows for a redistribution of debt at a lower interest rate. It’s a thing.

Anyway, that’s why I’m here. Today, there are regrets.