Toast Tuesday
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Too tired, headachy, unmotivated, antisocial, and cheap to treat myself to tacos for dinner (as it is #tacotuesday), so I made myself toast instead. I have been eating so much toast over the past year. I can not remember the last time I ate this much toast. I am probably going through almost a loaf of bread a week. Don’t worry about me getting scurvy: One of my current vices are these ridiculous fruit-flavored Starbucks beverages that contain plenty of vitamin C.
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I don’t like to eat the heels of the bread, so I put them in large ziploc bags in the freezer, promising myself that I am going to make stuffing or bread pudding or something delicious that you make out of sad bread. It never happens.
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A new person started at work yesterday! Another new person will be starting tomorrow!
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All of these strangers in the office are somewhat terrifying. I am quite capable of inadvertently offending people, and I do not want to be the poorly socialized mathematician who causes one of the new people to have a bad experience at work during their first few days. Also I hold some very strong opinions, some of which can seem, on the surface, to be somewhat unconventional.
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My couch is covered with toast crumbs and cat fur and junk mail and assorted other things. A small part of me wants to take a week off of work in order to finish doing Kon-Mari and throwing away all my possessions in hopes of transforming my home into a calm and spa-like retreat. But it is not as if I have any attachment to the toast crumbs and cat fur and junk mail. I just hate cleaning.