Pieces of Monday

– Okay, that photo is actually of yesterday’s breakfast. There’s nothing like a Sunday morning.
– Alex and I distributed gingerbread cookies to her happy coworkers today. Everybody was particularly excited about the MPR station map cookies I made, which was a relief. It could have gone either way: kitschy and funny or lame and pathetic. I did it with the former in mind.
– Generally speaking, people just love a Minnesota-shaped cookie. It’s a delicious state.
– I used the box that my MacBook came in to transport the cookies (in the three layers). As somebody said, ‘That’s the second best thing that can come in a MacBook box!’ I kept the first. (A couple of years ago; I didn’t just get a new laptop or anything.)
– I packed my gym bag and brought it with me, so I could have a run after my cookie elf duties. New socks! New gym shorts! New shirt! New headband to hold back my bangs! It should have been the best gym day ever, thanks to my Target shopping this weekend, but I forgot to pack one key element. Let it suffice to say that I had to stick to incline walking instead of running. And it wasn’t my shoes.
– This afternoon, I didn’t have very much yogurt left for my usual snack, so I mixed in some applesauce. It wasn’t bad, but it was very strange. Is it dairy? Is it fruit? Unidentifiable!
– I finished watching the first season of How I Met Your Mother (I stretched it out to three whole days!). I was saying yesterday that it was laughable to think of the characters as being my age, both because of the way the behave and the obscene amounts of money they seem to drop on a whim. But I was listening to the actor commentary tonight, and I realized I could imagine a group of my friends sounding pretty similar. I guess real people are just less fake.
– When I came home today, the cats were asleep on the sofa. Booty greeted me, but Beany kept sleeping, even though I called her name about five times. It wasn’t until I moved my desk chair that she woke up; I guess that’s what it took to alert her to the fact that her environment had changed. I like to think that’s because my voice just wove itself into her subconscious. She probably dreams about me nagging her.