Well folks, it was touch and go for a while, but we're nearly there.
One might say, we've arrived.
Tomorrow is my last Friday at work.
I'm pretty pumped. I'm also pretty tired, so if these words seem a little flat, its because they are. But I'm excited, deep down inside. I'm also planning on going to bed around 9, so don't worry about me, I'll be right as rain tomorrow.
I still have a "Last Monday," "Last Tuesday," "Last Wednesday," and "Last Day". But I'm all about celebrating things.
To celebrate, I'm going all comfort food on myself tonight. And to me, that means one thing.
|The shapes taste best.|
Spirals are gross.
Elbows are okay
This box (albeit with different/no characters) really takes me back, as all good comfort food should. And so I'll share two of these stories with you. Mostly to have them written down for posterity. Both of these stories happened when I was about 7.
I was homeschooled (yes, that might explain some things) for 3rd, 4th, and 6th grade. 5th grade was rough. I nearly failed math. I don't like to talk about it. ANYhow, for 3rd & 4th grade, mostly, I was a pretty good worker and could get most of my self-instruction work finished by 11AM. I had a strong motivation, to get it finished by that particular time, because, at 11AM on channel 8, my all-time favorite show would come on. And if I were finished and my sister was not, then I got to pick the television show to watch during lunch.
What show? Well, obviously what any red-blooded 7-year-old would pick, duh.
I'd make some bluebox mac & cheese, and settle down with my favorite bowl and favorite spoon, and watch a nice solid half-hour of b&w criminal genius. If you're looking for an explanation, I don't have one for you. Its weird, I know. I've watched it since. I still like it. Remember this post? Well, sometimes I like things because they're awesome, and sometimes, well... for the opposite reasons.
I remembered the second thing while making my orange-y goodness, according to the "Original Method" as it says on the side of the box (as opposed to the healthy choice). It must have been a little after the whole Perry Mason kick (although that never really went away... again, I can't explain it), because I was old enough to make my own mac & cheese. At least, I
was allowed to do got away with it. There's a lot of my childhood that wasn't quite... recommended by professionals, shall we say.
Anyhow, my mom mixed up some mac & cheese for me, and when I tasted it, it was weird. Had a ... hard taste to it. I told dearest Mum that she had done it wrong. She probably protested that she didn't, I don't know. Either way, I mixed it myself the next time. Again, it tasted weird. So I served some to my Mum, and she said it tasted fine. Of course, she was homeschooling 3 children and dealing with a toddler, so I sorta doubted her. To verify, I tried it from her bowl as well. It did taste fine. WEIRD. Later, after some trial & error, I discovered the taste came from the certain brown/peach/ugly-colored bowls I was eating out of.
Yum. Nothing like leaching chemicals from plastic. Again, what every 7/8-yr-old needs.
So what about you? Comfort food? Stories? C'mon, you've all been quiet for a while. Give me your tales. Lend me your