cornfields of popcorn yet to be opened

Putting a digital camera in my hands was always a dangerous proposition - instant gratification is a beautiful, addictive thing. On the other hand, instead of my wordy, effusive prose, you get pictures. I'm thinking everyone can find something to agree on there.

I set out this morning for breakfast with a friend and found my neighborhood to be more interesting than I thought possible.

( Welcome To My Not-So-Wasteland )

My mom sent me back out later in the afternoon to Publix with her debit card, which meant the boys would have dinner and I got shiny new copies of both People and US Weekly for the trouble. It's a sick, sad addiction.

And by the time I got in the car to drive home, my blood sugar was so low that slap-happy would've been a mild diagnosis of my mood. I may have played nothing but Yeah the entire way (three and a half spins) singing and gesturing emphatically the whole time, then bounced around my kitchen and told my mother crazy stories (perhaps imitating voices of the people concerned) between mouthfuls of canned mushrooms, half a biscuit, leftover turkey and green beans, three glasses of Arizona Diet Green Tea, a bit of Ben & Jerry's Light Chocolate Chocolate Cookie ice cream and some raw sugar cookie dough. Why I'm not lying on the floor in a food coma is a quirk of metabolism I don't pretend to understand.

Currently, I'm ODing on HP fic (a thousand thank yous to saturn92103 for her recommendation of Scratch, which is the real reason I was late to breakfast this morning) and TNT's deciding my birthday's come early, showing four straight episodes of Law & Order. Mmm, Jack McCoy. *lick*