It began the night before.

I found out I lost 2.2 pounds at Weight Watchers.

So…I went home and made a cheese pizza.


The next day was going swimmingly until…

I left work late.

Squeezed onto a very crowded train…

Which promptly got stuck underground…during rush hour.

Oh yeah, did I tell you?

There was a Red Sox home game last night.

Which means I was surrounded by idiotic fans dressed in their trusty Sox gear.

I’d like to let it be known that the majority of Red Sox fans don’t take public transportation on a regular basis.

Therefore, they think the T is “cool”.

Not moving for 30 minutes resulted in them loudly and excitedly discussing the trials and tribulations of getting “stuck” on the “train”, because, you know…siiiigh… it is a part of city living after all.

As if being jostled by Sox fans on a crowded train wasn’t bad enough, there were also about 30 elementary-school-aged campers.

Extended periods of not moving causes children of this age to become antsy.

This resulted in poking, yelling, stepping on my feet, and incessantly asking “WHY aren’t we MOVING?”

I have never exercised such extreme self-control than I did on that train.

I did not harm any children.

Although in my head I did.


Hour and a half later I was home.

I planned on making dinner for Moe.

Tacos, to be exact.

Went to turn on the stove.

The gas stove, to be exact.

Click, click, click…clickclickclickcickclickclickclick.

Lots of gas.

No flame.

Headache ensues.

As well as a call to my (very chatty) landlord.

Couple hours later, 3 of the 4 burners are fixed.

Moe and I eat take-out.

And I go about 30 points over my Weight Watchers limit for the day.