Coffee Should Stay in a Cup

This may be a record for me: two posts in one day.  I'm cozied up in bed at my grandparents' house.  I've already checked under the sheets for spiders (a long-held and ridiculous ritual of mine) and so have the all-clear to lounge and type a few things before giving in to sleep. 

Earlier today, as I left Omaha, I was experiencing Food-Choice Indecisiveness, a condition that causes me to be confused about what I want to feed myself.  It began when I filled my car up with gas.  I decided it would be fun to have some soda to drink while I cruised down the highway.  So, I popped into the convenience store and got some toxic Diet Pepsi mixed with Diet Mountain Dew from the fountain drink station. Check.

As I strolled to the checkout counter, I felt a slight rumble in my stomach.  Hmm...a bit early for dinner, but I am quite hungry.  I passed a little case of deli sandwiches and decided to buy a dainty turkey sandwich on wheat bread.  It appeared decently healthy and I thought it would save me from taking time to get something later.  I grabbed it.  Check.

Diet soda and sandwich in hand, I got into my loaded Taurus and went on my way.  I was soon reminded why gas station sandwiches are not touted as fine dining.  The one I had carefully selected was a disaster.  The bread was stale on one side and soggy on the other.  Yum.  I choked it down though because I wasn't going to let it go to waste.  Really, Jessica?

So, being small and unpalatable, the sandwich just didn't satiate me.  As I drew closer to the interstate, I decided I should get something else.  Hmm...but what?  It was a struggle, let me tell you.  I wasted a good five or ten minutes in deciding, even parking and going into a convenience store only to walk back out because I couldn't, for the life of me, figure out what I should eat. 

Finally, I decided that something sweet would be perfect.  At the same time, I concluded that my diet soda concoction would have to go to make room for my first beverage love: coffee.  There was a McDonald's next to the interstate.  Mmm...a hot fudge sundae with black coffee.  That sounded heavenly and like it would slide down nice and easy.  I figured I deserved something fun to eat to celebrate the end of my summer (I won't tell you how many other times I've celebrated with food this week.)

I whipped Miss Ruby, Jr. into the drive-thru.  Though the line was long, I didn't have to be too patient.  That's one thing about McDonald's.  Their food may be a bit simulated, but they rock at drive-thrus.  I was so impressed that I smiled at the braces-laden teenage girl who handed me my food.  "You guys are slick!"  I exclaimed, full of chipper good-will toward all.  Who wouldn't be when about to indulge in ice-cream and hot-fudge goodness?  The girl grinned back at me.

As I pulled forward, I paused by the trashcans to dump my toxic soda (sorry to be wasteful, but I did eat the sandwich.) as well as some old coffee that was sitting in my car.  As I reached to put the old coffee in the trash, it slipped from my hands, did an acrobatic flip, and splashed unceremoniously all over my shorts, legs, and door.  The good news is that it was room temperature, but it was still WET!  I just had to laugh at myself for being so clumsy.  Ridiculous.

Three and a half hours later, when I arrived in NP, I was still wet.  I was too lazy to change along the way and really didn't notice the damp too much.  I still had a grand time singing and dancing to music, talking on the phone, and dreaming about whatever as I crusied down the road.  My coffee-stained legs combined with the murky-brown wet spots on my shorts were not becoming, but it was no big deal.  I was riding solo.

That is all I will take the time to relate tonight.  I love sleeping at my grandparents' house, and it's time to give in to my drooping eyelids.  Over and out.