Guilty Pleasure #1

One thing I have learned over the past ten years of freedom (meaning no direct guidance from my parents) is that I have very little tolerance for temptation when it comes to having things that I want, or crave.

Like yesterday, I left at lunch time to go get my allergy shots. Usually I don't get excited about this practice because I normally go on Tuesdays before work, but yesterday was special. I left work and started driving south through the shady neighborhood of 31st and Gillham, and it occurred to me...there must be a Church's Chicken somewhere near!! Sure enough, as I was stopped at a stop light, I could see one right around the corner.

So I pull up to the drive-thru (yep, in my Lexus RX 300) and order a two-piece dark chicken dinner with mashed potatoes, a biscuit, and a large coke. Thank God I had enough cash so that Jarrett wouldn't see this charge on the bank statement ;o) I paid the $3.43 - what a bargain - and start driving down the road with a leg of chicken slopping in my fingers.

Mmmm it was good!!! Then I ate the biscuit and if you haven't had Church's Chicken, it's like KFC only greasier. I think the biscuits are actually fried instead of baked but I'm not sure. They might just be baked on top of a slab of butter.

Then on to the mashed potatoes with brown gravy. Granted, this meal isn't nearly as good as my Mom's fried chicken and milk gravy, but it just has to be eaten every once in awhile so I remember what I'm missing out on.

This post is #1 in a long list of things that I just need to confess. What is your favorite guilty pleasure??

The opportunity to start my blog has finally arrived...I have a story to share!

I came into work on Monday. It started out as a normal Monday. I attended the regular Monday morning meeting, made a glass of instant Nestea, and returned to my desk to read emails and develop a plan of attack for my ever present "to do list." Then everything changed and it's been different ever since.

I work in a cubicle farm. The marketing group is located in a little pod and we have walls that you could knock over with an electric Barbie car. You can always hear everyone around you if they're making noise, even when they're on the phone making a gyno appointment. I have one cabinet with three drawers that is stuck to the somewhat solid countertop that I slave over.

So on this Monday morning I hear my boss scream and slam one of her three drawers shut! I walk around the wall to find a breakfast bar in a plastic bag that has been ripped, and the only thing left of the breakfast bar is the wrapper. Strange - since my boss has been out of the office for two weeks and the breakfast bar was there when she left. YEP - it's official - a mouse has been in her drawer and ate her breakfast!!

After a three minute pause for the shock to wear off, I open my drawer. Sure enough - two half-eaten Powerbars, and little mice foot prints with peanut butter on the bottom trail across the CD cases in my drawer. AUGH!! Thanks to my wonderful Mom and her fear of mice crawling up her pant legs - I have the same fear!

I remember when we were little, if Mom found or heard a mouse, she would demand that we join her on the kitchen table until Dad could come home from work and kill it. Or when we would visit Grandpa & Grandma on the farm and she would jump and squeal when we threw stuff at her feet. (We were so mean.)

So here I sit. With my legs crossed and under my butt. Or up on the countertop if no one is looking. I'm too afraid to put them down because I think a mouse is going to run right up my pantlegs. And I've spent at least three hours trying to figure out how the little devil crawled up the back of the cabinet and into the drawer. And I threw out at least $10 worth of food. Granted, the Fruit Loops had to go because I couldn't open the box for fear of finding one of the little creatures.

Tomorrow I will publish the office newsletter with a reminder to all employees that they need to keep edible objects in tubberware at all times. We don't want to feed the little demons. If they starve, they can't come back.

If you have any good remedies for ridding my office of mice, please post! After I told this story twice at work I got the same response, "Yeah, they warned me about the mice when I started. Leslie sees them once a week." Evidentally I'm the only one that wants to kill the little devils...