It's Monday morning. As usual, I'm up before the sun to let Sully out to piddle. I'm downstairs folding laundry and reminding (read: yelling at) Hubs to promptly encourage him out the door by our estimated time of departure, 6:30am. I'm making sure he has his laptop, his money clip, his Treo and his leather belt. These are the crucial Hubs-cessories that frequently get left behind.
I'm walking the dog up and down the street, pleading with him to "do poops." I'm in and out of the shower, I'm throwing together my lunch. Which, I am SO excited about, because I've recently gone cold turkey from Coca-Cola and become addicted to Izze Sparkling Fruit Juices. Okay, I'll admit: the withdrawal symptoms only lasted a few days, until the sweet nectar of the Gods, aka Izze, was introduced to my palate.
70% pure fruit juice. Sparkling water. No refined sugars. No caffeine. No preservatives. No artifical colors. No artifical flavors.
D E L I C I O U S N E S S.
But back to the point of this story. I'm dropping Hubs off at the airport. I'm getting lost between the airport and my job. Believe me, this is no small feat. I could get lost in my own neighborhood if I tried hard enough. I'm really missing my SUV and my navigation right about now.
I make it to work. I spend the following four hours salivating at the thought of digging into my lunch sack and embibing on a little Sparkling Pomegrante goodness.
It's finally lunch. I grab my lunch sack and make a mad dash to the break room. I tear it open, reach inside and pull out...
A COLD BUD LIGHT.
I wish I could've seen the look of utter and complete disappointment on my face. My luck had better turn around real soon...And I'm limiting Hubs' stock of Cold Bud Lights in the fridge. He now needs to split his sacred brew with the sub-zero cooler. Obviously, I need to make more room for Izze.
And, you know, pack my lunch with the lights on...