So the other day I order some Chinese food, because having someone bring food directly to your house and eating it in your jammies is perhaps the most decadent pleasure that exists.
I ordered some food for my girlfriend as well. This is partly because I'm sensitive and thoughtful and awesome. But, truthfully, it's also because if I didn't, she would just eat half of mine and then I'd be sad and hungry.
Just as the food arrived, my girlfriend called me and told me she'd be late getting home from work. I tell her that I'll wait dinner for her, again because of the awesome, and resist the urge to open the bag to get at the egg rolls. Instead I set the paper bag on my bed and cover it up with a blanket to keep it warm until she gets home.
Eventually she does, and we eat it, and it's lovely.
But that's not the end of the story. The end of the story is that now my blankets smell like chicken fried rice. You'd think this would be a bad thing, but not so much. Truth is, it's kinda nice, actually.
Ah yes. There you go. Another little peek into my life.
Why am I writing about this? Hell, I don't know. Why do I write anything? I suppose because it amuses me, and because I hope it might amuse you too.
If you're looking for more odd ramblings of mine, you can find them in the newest interview I've done over HERE at the Book Swede.
We talk, among other things, about monkeys.
posted by Pat at 6:47 AM