So, I was away for a training for work for the majority of last week. I left Monday and came home on Thursday and I'll be honest - I was quite confident that I would have more than enough time to compose several witty blog posts while I was away. After all, the training ended at 4:00 each afternoon, which left me with a solid seven hours of time to fill before bedtime.
And then I started reading a new book and became engrossed in it. Also, another paralegal from my office was staying at the same hotel, and every night at 8:30 we went down to the lobby for complimentary milk and cookies to talk about all sorts of things and most importantly, strategize about how to bring back animal print apparel back to the office in an understated, professional way. I'm lookin' at you, zebra print high heels.
And finally when it was time for bed each night, I would turn on the tv and become overwhelmed because HELLO, SEVERAL HUNDRED CHANNELS. I could have watched anything. News shows. Sport shows. Sitcoms or soap operas or continuous weather coverage. I had the television world at my fingertips and I should probably be ashamed to admit what I chose to watch before bed every night.
Listen, they are addicting. One minute you're thinking, "Oh wow, that Ninja Kitchen System 1100 sure would revolutionize my culinary blending," and the next minute you are LITERALLY HIDING YOUR DEBIT CARD IN YOUR SNEAKER to keep yourself from ordering a Miyashi pillow, which, by the way, is quite possibly the answer to all of the world's problems. I'm convinced that people worldwide would be a heck of a lot happier if everyone just had a Miyashi pillow. Not to mention sore backs, necks, and feet would be things of the past! Perhaps I should suggest to the current presidential administration that they next time they have hundreds of billions of dollars to throw around, they should think about going the As Seen on TV route. MIYASHI PILLOWS FOR EVERYONE!!
While the content of the training last week was nothing to write home about, the food would have warranted several lengthy postcards home, with maybe even a telegram and some sort of message delivered via carrier pigeon. Seriously. It was that good. I ate tortellini and stuffed green bell peppers and paninis and tomato and gorgonzola soup and taco salad and stuffed shells and grilled sandwiches and thirteen of the best cookies I have ever met.
And that was just on Tuesday.
When I got back home later in the week I settled right back into my routine, meaning that on Friday afternoon I tried to convince Emily that people in England pronounce sandwich "sond-wick." I knew things were bad on Sunday morning when I found myself performing a soprano version of My Country Tis of Thee for her. It was time to GET THEE TO TARGET.
On Sunday evening my dad was invited to the VIP MEMBERS ONLY EVENT at Cabela's, WORLD'S FOREMOST OUTFITTER, and invited us along as his guests. Before we arrived we were joking that maybe there would be a red carpet at the entrance for all of the VIPs.
I can say without a doubt that I never in a million years dreamed that I would walk into a store full of bullets and fishing poles and camouflage apparel on a red carpet. However, it delighted me.
There is nothing worse than being hungry on the red carpet, so we stopped at Cracker Barrel on our way to Cabela's. I ordered corn, macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, french fries, and hush puppies because I believe in carbohydrates. The main course was half a pound of fried shrimp.
We were all talking and laughing as we ate, and when I was about a quarter of a pound into my shrimp, my dad looked at me and joked (because everyone know you don't eat the tails of shrimp) "Hey Laur, not eating those tails are you?"
Yes. Yes I was.
I guess I just figured that if it was fried, you were supposed to eat it. It turns out that you're really not. Whoops. Although this experience is just further evidence that everything tastes delicious fried.
Luckily the consumption of countless shrimp tails did not kill me, which is a relief because I would have hated to get to the pearly gates before I had the opportunity to walk into an outdoors superstore on a red carpet.
Or buy a Miyashi pillow.