I have a secret.

Wait.

No, I don't. That was a lie. I don't know why I'd tell you there are secrets here when there aren't really any at all. That was mean. I just want attention, clearly. I probably need therapy.

If you were wondering, I am still obsessed with drums. I need drums! I can never start my band if I don't have a drum kit. Meanwhile I've been practicing on pots and pans.

No I haven't. Another lie. What is wrong with me today?

I also need a hot tub. I told my landlord that I need a hot tub and some palm trees in my back yard. Every day I look at Craigslist to see if anyone is selling hot tubs or palm trees. Every day, someone is. And every day, I don't get any hot tubs or palm trees, because I am not strong enough to carry those things into my yard. I told my landlord that I had to replace some shelf brackets (out of my own pocket!) and that in return he should probably buy me a hot tub, but he did not jump all over that offer. Honestly, I am shocked. It seems like any savvy investor/landlord/dad would be all about a deal like that. If Warren Buffett was my landlord, I bet he'd buy me a hot tub.

In my desk I have a tub of tiny peanut butter cups from Trader Joes. I don't know if you've ever had these things, but they're like crack. I don't even like peanut butter, yet I've eaten approximately 9000 of them today and it's only 11:30. Can't get enough candy! I realized today that my diet consists mainly of candy and snacks. I think once I turn 30 I'm going to have to start behaving more like an adult, and that will include not eating ice cream or sour punch straws for dinner and actually using my kitchen to cook more than just baked goods. That means I have exactly 6 months left of living this fun life before I have to grow up. Shall we all have a moment of silence for my youth? There won't be any silence in my adulthood because I'll have that drum kit and I'll be banging away on it at all times. Fact.

Okay, I saw the cutest and most delicious thing on the Internets and it was tiny crème brûlée, prepared in a wonton spoon. You know, those ceramic spoons that Chinese restaurants have? So this was just tiny, bite-sized crème brûlée. Yum. And cute. Sorry about the italics there, I don't know why it's doing that but it won't go away, so please don't think I'm trying to be all pretentious with my foreign-word italicization. Wow, italicization is a word? Neat. Anyway, I think it would be good to have a fancy party and have fancy tiny foods and then I could make the tiny crème brûlée. Seriously, though, with the italics, what is that? Grrr.

It smells like cat pee at my desk and there are no cats at my office, so that is gross. I smelled it yesterday too but I am wearing completely different clothes than yesterday which leads me to believe it's not me, which is good because I don't want to smell like cat pee, but bad because smelling cat pee all day is completely unpleasant.

I guess I've wasted enough of your time. Now I'm going to comparison shop for auto insurance and file my taxes. Hahaha, I kid, I kid. I'm not going to do that at work today.

That's because I did it yesterday.

Fact.

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