So I rolled up to the Starbucks drive-through this morning, 6:15 a.m. Despite the fact that I wake up at 2:45 a.m. three times a week for work, I reserve the right to complain about waking up at 5:00 a.m. on a Sunday.
Tall coffee with classic sweetener and a splash of whole milk please, and a reduced-fat turkey bacon sandwich (ordered for the taste, not the calories).
But when I pull up to the window to receive my treats, it is not the cheerful girl who took my order, but a dashing young man. As we traded money for food, I blushed as I gave him what I felt was my cutest, most confident smile.
As I pulled away, I looked in my mirror to see exactly what "my cutest, most confident smile" looked like. No joke, I looked like a freakin' chikmunk, which by the way, is how I pronounce it. Actually, I used to call them "chick-a-munks." I also said "arach-a-nids" and "Chuck-a-Norris." I'm not sure why I added that extra syllable, but I like it, even now.
Yet I digress (from the story that was pointless in the first place). Where was I? Oh, who knows.
Color of the day: Pacific Blue. The main (and only) reason for this is because I got a free t-shirt at church tonight of this color and I'm pretty stoked. Make that absolutely and totally excited. I'm wearing it right now, in fact. Are these posts getting more and more irrelevant? Indeed. I'll try to do better. Maybe.
