Which is to say that I baked a batch of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies today. But I didn't eat one. Apparently, the act of making them was what I desired; not the actual partaking of. A bit of a strategic mistake, though, since the kitchen is now sweltering.
Been hanging out at Gladys', too, to lurk while the smart girls partake in a stirring discussion about the video for the Black Eyed Peas' "Bebot."
Stayed up late, late, late last night writing (oh, and okay, for reasons I don't understand, I watched one episode of the Janice Dickinson Modeling Agency. Can you spell c-r-a-z-y?!) and am now feeling all cotton-headed-like. Must stay alert, though, because I have to take R & V to their first soccer meeting of the season. If I'm not, I might offer up some odd suggestions for their team name. I might, for example, try to get "Nosepickers" on the ballot. Or "Geckos." Or, "Beasts of Burden."
Or "The Rabid Mole-Like Creatures in the Fire Swamp from the Movie The Princess Bride."
Or "The Rats of NIMH." (Whoa. Where'd I get that? I haven't though about Mrs. Frisby & The Rats of NIMH since I was but a wee one).
Or, "Gypsies, Tramps & Thieves."
"Heartbreakers, Dreammakers, Love Takers"
"The Delta Dawns."
Let's face it.
I could keep this up all evening. And life is just a tad too short.
Time for a cookie.