blue and flame

so. true story about living in the ghetto.

I left my wallet in john's car last night after we got back (no I did not mean to). When I got in to my apartment (and after I realized the missing wallet), I also found that I had no food. correction: I had some cereal we'd bought at Trader Joe's in Pacific Grove for the drive down. I called John who said he'd bring the wallet in the afternoon when he came to campus.

In the morning I woke up, very hungry, with no food, and no money. BUT! I opened a St. Patrick's Day card from Katie who had also included $5 (grandparent move!) for me to get some delicious Chano's (amazing mexican food. we went when she visited and now she is hooked). Chano's? I think to myself, or breakfast? So I biked myself down to Superior (closer but dirtier grocery store), locked up Ophelia (aforementioned bike), and waltzed to the dairy section at the back.

Where, lo and behold, here were my options: 1) non-fat milk that expired yesterday 2) 2% milk that expired today 3) whole milk that expired some time in april. I must admit, I was torn. I could drink fat, or I could smell like old cheese all day. truly, a COMNUNDRUM (sorry I can't spell that word, but I really wanted to use it). I rummaged around and found some 1% that expired on Thursday, and took it to the checkout aisle, bought it, went home, and ate the cereal.

This is a true story about living in the ghetto, and the friend's donations that get me through.