Oh Happy Day!

Today started off as a normal day; Quentin moving at his own speed, me fumbling around trying to figure out what to do next, and the TV telling me how hot it's going to be and how much traffic to expect. In preparation for today's heat I donned my white polo shirt and packed shorts to change into for the Battle of the Beltway drive home.

We got out the door at a pretty good time and I dropped Quentin off at daycare, that's when it happened. For the second week in a row, I dribbled coffee on my white shirt. This is something that I live in constant fear of every morning. Last week it didn't happen until I was turning into the work parking lot, no going home to change there. Today I was relatively close to home so a dilemma faced me: go change shirts or try to tough it out at work. I chose the former. I darted home while loudly cursing every traffic light that decided it would turn red as I approached it. I finally got in the house, took off the shirt, ran it under water, changed into another darker polo, and made it to work only 15 minutes late.

I left my cell phone in the truck so I went back outside to get it when I looked down and noticed a fresh brown spot on my shirt. I have a great week ahead of me.

May I Take Your Order?

I'm so sick of the fast food industry! I still love me some fast food, but I'm sick of the combo meals and the gallons of soda that come with them. When the combo meals were first introduced it was a wonderful idea. I could get the items I usually ordered together in a fairly priced package by saying a number, grabbing my order, and going on my way. It had normal size fries and normal sized drinks and if I wanted more I could request a Super Size! Soon after the sodas started taking over and they have been growing ever since.

Taco Bell started first, you order the five soft taco combo and the employee would hand you forty ounces of Pepsi. (What am I going to do with this? It's not like I can put it in the fridge for later. This damn thing barely fits in the cup holder.) The other chains followed suit and next thing I know my lunch time ended up like a night at the movies. "Would you like a popcorn the size of Rhode Island for only a quarter more?" "Sure, why not?" Smalls became mediums, mediums became larges, and larges became toddlers. No longer could I have passengers in the truck because the soda was strapped in the safety seat next to me.

From now on I guess I'm stuck ordering small combo meals. The problem with small combo meals is that the drink is what a medium used to be, but the small fries are still small if not smaller.

It's a cruel world.