Thursday

I started my day with a stereotypical peanut butter and jelly sandwich on granary bread. Sadly, there was a rock in the peanut butter (or, to save typing, I can abbreviate it as "peanu butte".)

A small white pebble. It did NOT damage any of my teeth. What am I to do?

I was in class the rest of the morning, and very hungry by 12:30, when I regained my freedom. I did not hesitate, and consumed the other pb&j. It was fine.

I had leftover spaghetti with large meatballs, that was my intended lunch, and I finally warmed it at about 2PM. But not all at once, y'understand; I microwaved it for 77 seconds, and then felt the bottom, and it was still cold, so I punched in another 88 seconds, and then forgot about it. I returned later, the spaghetti had reached a kind of thermal equilibrium, but wasn't, you know, HOT or anything. So I dialed up another 77 seconds, and I was past caring. I'd done more than my share of microwaving for one day, that was it, I was at the end of that particular microwaving rope.

Ironically, I then only ate half the spaghetti.

The evening meal was a beef roast, or roast of cow as we call it. Along with super-sweet frozen corn, and el potato smasho. Toreador, dude!

Now I've a hankerin' for frosted flakes, I'm pretty sure they are available, if only I could finish this, and amble kitchenward.