The BF and I are planning a trip to Chicago this weekend. I have two very close friends there, his sister and sister's boyfriend live there - we're planning to stay with his sister.
Me: "When will we leave Friday? Where will we be sleeping? Does your sister eat breakfast? How will we meet up Friday night?" (He's going to a concert, I'm having dinner with one of the above-mentioned friends.)
Him: Uhhh, I dunno.
Me: (inside head) "Hmmm...I can always sleep on my friend's couch if I don't hear from him by midnight. I bet his sister will sleep till noon Saturday - I'd better bring a Luna bar and a bag of oatmeal, maybe a couple string cheese. Or maybe I should just make plans to meet my other friend for breakfast regardless, and use the Luna bar for an emergency. Worse comes to worst, I can always find a gas station and get a bag of almonds or peanuts and beef jerky."
Why do men hate to plan?
And
Aren't I awesome, expecting the worse? I've learned my lesson! I'm going to Chicago with fistfuls of almonds, oatmeal, and protein bars hidden in my pockets.
I went to the health food store today and bought some Greek yogurt. I got two different brands, and one 2% and one nonfat. Someone told me the nonfat was gross, but I have to learn it the hard way. Greek yogurt has like 15 grams of protein in a serving. My LOUSY plain yogurt today had 8. Pff.
It's so weird to be excited about taste testing plain, low-fat yogurt. (And secretly, I'm thinking I'm superior to the rest of the Big Mac-eating world...)
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"Men are taught to apologize for their weaknesses, women for their strengths." - Lois Wyse
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