I don't know what happened. I kept meaning to get on here and tell you guys the story about how the cashier at Wendy's mugged me. Or about the guy dragging a cross down the middle of the road (it had wheels; I'm pretty sure that's cheating). But then two out of three scales agreed that I was fucking fat (yes, they actually said that...like the wheel flipped past all the numbers to a little text box that was all appalled at my fatness. Or something)and I started scarfing down chocolate and Garden Salsa Sun Chips until I slipped into a food coma and blacked out several weeks worth of eating my feelings. Or something. And then I was busy acting out mini-plays about my dogs' back stories (they have back stories) which sounds like a psychotic break to you guys, but just sounds like Tuesday to my husband. And what with all that going on, I haven't blogged in over a month.
So, uh, here is a trying to get back to blogging and getting over my block story: One day I went to Wendy's for lunch (no, I don't know why my weight suddenly sky rocketed. Why do you ask?) and I paid in cash with a $10 bill. The cashier gave me back the right change. I know because I double checked. But then she said, "Give me back one of those ones." And in my head I'm thinking, "That doesn't make sense; this is the correct change." (With a semicolon and everything. Because everyone thinks in punctuation, right?) But as I opened my mouth to say no, I realized that my hand had automatically reached out and given her back one of the one dollar bills. I have no explanation. She just...she had authority, y'all. I don't know. And I was so shocked at my damn self that I just drove away.
So I'm fat and dumb. At least I got that going for me.