The rest of this post is even more useless (or, less useful?). This cut is so you won't feel guilty for sparing yourself the read. Really.
I ate enough food to feed at least a dozen starving children in Africa. It was all good, it was a LOT. We both left miserably full, but feeling like we gave them a run for their all-you-can-eat price. Note to self: it costs a lot more than the money spent on a breakfast buffet.
*Frivolous aside* As a tribute to how good this burger was that we used to get at a local hangout for the late night fuh-reaks, we used to say it was worth eating it, even if we threw up and it came out of our nose. TMI, I know, but you clicked, right? Yeah, lesson learned. This was a place we use to go to get a burger at, like, 2 or 3 in the morning, ya know, because we are true night owls. And, we didn't have kids back then, and Allie worked third shift anyway, SO... that's how we found ourselves eating at a place where drunk people seemed to live, and where we once saw a guy big enough to play pro football in a black dress and full make-up. Ha!
So, as we are eating this hyuge buffet, I'm asking myself (and even ask Allie out loud), "Is it worth it?" After sitting around the house all morning miserable, then feeling better, then taking a lil' nap, I decided (or, my stomach decided for me) that it most certainly was not. Good news; nothing came out my nose - Bad news: I spit up a small amount of grease followed by about 5 minutes of dry heaves. I think I nearly herniated, and I'm sure at one point my eyes came part of the way out of their sockets.
The other day, I had used the last bit of my Head & Shoulders shampoo and had forgotten to bring the new bottle into the shower. I grabbed Allie's shampoo and read the label. Apparently, it has "Orchid and Coconut Milk" but I was pretty sure using it just this once wouldn't turn me gay or anything, so I lathered up. Wow! I've been missing out in my flake-free ritual!
It smelled great and had good lather. My hair was also soft and manageable, but I digress. I like it, but I really can't use it, because I find it distracting. I found myself walking through the house, and I would get a faint whiff of the shampoo, causing me to slow down and turn my head quickly trying to smell it better. Imagine if I was out in public doing that! I was lucky no one caught me.
It's time to get Toby "fixed." He's humping the other dogs (both male) continuously. They probably feel like they are in prison, with that and being in a fence and all. The lay in the corner of the yard trying to get where he can't bother them, and he stands over them yiping. Like, get up and take it like a ma... er, dog! Sad, really. If I had any hopes of creating any value at all to this post, I would now expound on the differences between dogs and men... Yeah, I got nothin'.
*Serendipitous addendum* Pink Floyd's "Dogs" just came on Pandora, in which they compare men in the business world to the instinctive attack of a pack of dogs. Case rested.
Well, my brain is telling me I could easily make this an impossibly long post to endure, yet I resist. Apparently, we are still out of Diet Pepsi and bottled water, despite two days worth of lovingly rendered puling about it. Thus, I take up the yoke of responsibility because, how long can I drink milk and tap water? Ugh.
If this post has done nothing else, it has lent some credence to the possibility that I suffer from Cyclothymia, a condition I remained not-so-blissfully unaware of until a recent LJ exchange with thunderslug. If it is true that I do (thus far, undiagnosed and undiscussed with medical types), then this would qualify as a post under the influence of "hypomania."
In a detached way, one wonders at that possibility. One wonders if one really wants to know. One wonders if there is a viable treatment to "overcome" such a disorder. One frequently feels overwhelmed by such... as if one had too much to wonder about.
One spares one's friends from further suffering.