Honeycombs

Holy sh-Nikes (sha-nike-ees), Batman. October. We've had like one, non-sweltering summer day and now we're expecting frost over the weekend. All the damn leaves are still green and non-fall-like. I haven't gotten to wear boots. Not. Once.

In a couple days, we're seeing Daniel Tosh. I keep forgetting that is happening SOON. It feels like in a second, it'll be all NOW and we'll accidentally be at home, in our pajamas. Watching Running Wilde because we're sure we're the only 2 people on the planet that find it funny and it'll be cancelled soon. And eating toast like it's a snack because we don't have anything snack-y at home and when we put cinnamon sugar on top of the butter, it seems like a viable option. If we squint our eyes real hard and try to get into a cough-syrup induced mental haze, then it's almost like we're eating a really crappy donut.

Or a really awesome piece of toast.

I wonder where I put the tickets to see him.

The hubby's cough and sinuses are acting up again. Will Daniel Tosh make us leave? Will our feelings hurt more than our sinuses? *Sad, horrified face.

And is my body trying to tell me something? My taste buds aren't working again. I got to open a new box of cereal this morning, and I opened my cupboard of waiting boxes...

Usually, I say something genius-y like "Wow. I really like all these!" in surprise. Which is stupid since I AM THE ONE WHO BOUGHT ALL THE CEREAL AND WHO EATS ALL THE CEREAL ON A DAILY  BASIS.

This morning, the boxes all seemed blah except for the Honeycomb. Honeycomb goes fast around here. Even the hubby takes handfuls of it to snack on whenever he walks through the kitchen.

I had the thought MAYBE I SHOULD SAVE THE HONEYCOMB. I don't know why. For a rainy day? For the future was as far as my mind went. Like I needed to save it for a special occasion that was going to happen later.

As if maybe we'd never have more Honeycomb. But I like Honeycomb! See my dilemma?

Then, I thought, "What if I die?" I will have wished I'd had the Honeycomb. WHAT IF I DIE. SOON. Like after breakfast.

So I happily opened the Honeycomb, which still tastes like Honeycomb, although milk does not taste like milk. At first I was all, maybe the milk went bad, but by the end of the bowl, I deemed it organic and forgave it, thinking it was tasty. Gee, we've only been getting this brand and % of milk since last December. It is possible I would forget what it tastes like...

And I fought with all my might to push it back in my brain, gave myself a nice pile of excuses. You need caffeine! It's so early - ha ha! You didn't get any sleep again! You're a funny lady full of quirkiness, which makes you so awesome and lovable! You do really like cereal! You and the hubby are still somehow kind of, slightly, a little bit sick!

Still, really, Self? You're going to die and you want Honeycombs? That's the thing you think of? If this is your last hour or two on earth? HONEYCOMBS. Having Honeycombs is the big finale? Captain Crunch would have ruined your last meal?

My seize the day, triumphant-fist-pumping-last-lap IS HONEYCOMBS. Oh God.

Somehow this translated into action. I had a second bowl of Honeycombs. Like that would make me less stupid about this whole thing happening in here (*taps on forehead).

If I really thought I was about to die, wouldn't I eat like a tub of cake frosting from the cupboard? Or those Japanese marshmallow things I bought for my brother but ended up opening and eating yesterday?

Even better than Honeycomb.

Sweet tiny bearded baby Jesus, this is some good sh*t. I opened the strawberry one yesterday. My brain goes, well this is what it would want for its last meal. It = me somehow emotionally removed by my own thought process.

Maybe the 2 bowls of cereal were in my best interest, since I have no room to open and devour this bag and then possibly die a Japanese Marshmallow Death. So the Honeycombs were really in the interest of self preservation.

And I also think my husband has a new cutsy nickname for the day. As in, when he walks through the door, I'm gonna be all "My honey comb! Ooo dodo do do." *Pets his hair. In the future, when he's home from work. Am I psychic? Man, I better not die today.

Watching Castle at 3 am where a medium possibily predicted her own murder = this kind of morning.

This is how my Friday started. For some reason, I do not have high hopes for our weekend.