Well, Every Day Can't be an Adventure

Today was one of those day when, if your life were a TV show, the producers would gloss over and hope the audience doesn't ask too many questions. Because it was lame.

Woke up (late), rushed to work, worked til my eyes hurt (eff you, HTML code that I can't fully grasp), left work at 4:59, and went to WalMart (!!). I know, right?

The workers were nice, but some rude patrons decided to discuss their dinner menu in front of the crescent rolls. AND I NEEDED ME SOME CRESCENT ROLLS. But more on that later.

After WalMart, I went to boyfriend's place to see his parents. Oh, and him. Well, once he finally left work. Think he stayed late to impress me/make it look like he works harder than I? Yes, Lauren, I'm sure that was his evil master plan.

HA HA HA!

While at Matt's, I cooked my specialty Cream-Cheese-and-Sausage-Stuffed Croissants (Man, I need to come up with a better name than that). On a level of mmmm good to mmmmmmmmmmm good, they are hands-down the latter.

This is mmmmmmmmm good.

So here's the sitch: These are as crazy easy as they are crazy good.

Ingredients

3 cans of crescent rolls

8 oz. of cream cheese

1 lb. of sausage

Directions

1. Heat oven to 375

2. Brown the sausage. Drain. Return to pan.

3. Add cream cheese. Stir until well combined. 

4. Scoop sausage mixture onto crescent rolls. Roll into crescent-style shapes. 

5. Bake for 11-13 minutes or until golden brown. 

OR UNTIL DELICIOIUS.

Aaaaaand I just uploaded my first blog recipe. *Facepalm* I have officially reached a new level  of adulthood. Yeah, adulthood. That's what we will call it. With that, I am going to end this adventurous day. But only because I want to; not because my cat has been incessantly meowing the whole time I've been writing this. "Pay attention to me." "Pet me." "Love me." Sheesh. So needy!

Sign she's mad: Won't look me in the eyes.

Sign she's mad: Gets between me and whatever is taking my attention away from her. 

Peace out, Thursday.

If I Drank Coffee, I'd be Drinking Coffee

I could not keep my eyes open this morning. After running over 2 old ladies and 1 crossing guard, I decided something needed to change. My options were to:

1. Start freaking waking up on time, you snoring loser
2. Get a blanket and curl up in the deserted office on my floor
3. Screw 1 and 2. Just blog/complain about it.

So hi. Welcome to me blogging/complaining about the impossibility of waking up on time.

Blogging/complaining turns me into an ugly man/boy.

The amount of sleep I get is not the issue. I love sleep too much to let anything get in the way. (Except on weekends, which is when I let nothing including sleep get in my way.) So during the weekday, I get the recommended 6-8 hours of shut eye.

"That freaking sun had better not get any closer."

But after those 6-8 hours, my alarm clocks go off. Yes, clockS. And every day, they're set for 6:30. Here's the routine: clocks go off at 6:30 and I either snooze or turn them completely off. Then, as time gets closer to 8:00, I get more nervous about being late, oversleeping, or becoming a permanent part of my oh-so-comfy mattress. Eventually it gets to the time (7:25) when I am too scared to snooze any longer. RUSH through a shower, RUSH through my closet finding something to wear, RUSH through the pantry for lunch (and breakfast if I am lucky), RUSH through the door, then RUSH to work.

I'm a blur, really.

I finally wake up around 10:00, which is when I realize I have been completely unproductive. Around 12:00, I finally look at myself in the mirror. ...We're not even gonna go there...

Aaaaand we went there. Yikes. Sorry about that.

And by 4:30, I am hungry due to my unfilling breakfast and/or lunch.

Case in point.

All the while I think, "I'm never going to do this again. This is way too much rushing." Except the next day I repeat it. And the next day. And the next day. And the next day. But not the next day, because it's Saturday. Duh.

What can I do to help me??
1. Hire a herd of horses to trample my apartment in the morning.
2. Give my cat a light saber that she can use to attack me if that snooze button is ever pressed.
3. Set my mattress on a timer to turn into hot lava 2 seconds after my alarm clocks go off.
4. Wake up on time.

I can't believe there were 201,000 results for "cat with light saber." My original jokes are apparently so unoriginal.

It's a hard decision, but I know one thing: Coffee does not make the list of possibilities. I've survived this long without it, so why cave in now? Yeah, carrying around a coffee cup and slurping on boiling liquid would make me look all professional, but is it worth it? Is it? NO. Taste buds, I will not do that to you. I would rather treat them to a nice cup of lukewarm hot chocolate.

This is the only way I can live with myself. There must be more to me than being a late snoozer.

Peace out, Wednesday.

Feeling 90% Better Makes Me Happy

I had to leave work yesterday because I was feeling as sick as a girl can feel. Booooo. Matt came by during his lunch break to make me feel better. Like the amazing boyfriend he is, he was being sweet even though I looked like death.

"Cutie, why are you so cute?"
"I'M NOT!! Look at me!!"

We have such great conversations.

So now that I can blog via my phone, I am going to try to post every day... Or you know, more than once every 5 months, which is my personal record. Im sure Miaya will be happy!

I Googled "Happy Russian."

The latest in my culinary adventures occurred during my breakfast this morning. (Well, considering we are talking about a cupcake, maybe I should consider it a reaaaallllly late dessert from yesterday.) This cupcake had glitter. 

¡It was a Ke$sha-fied cupcake! 

At work, I felt pretty useless because I was still getting to feeling better. So I did nothing. And that was ugh. So, to fix the ugh, I put my running shoes for *drumroll* the first time in 9 months. Since I broke my foot, I haven't been physically able to work out. 

This is me. Man, what an unflattering color shirt I have on.

So the run was terrible. My balance was off, my strides were uneven, my feet hit the ground wrong, and I couldn't go more than a few steps without feeling pain. It definitely did not help the ughs that I was feeling. In fact, the ughs turned into UGHs. 

Sad feet.

The rest of the night was spent with boyfriend. We ordered in Papa Johns and drank winter beer (which means its officially winter). Caught up on Sunday's episode of Dexter. Zagh, it was so good. If you need some good ol serial killer action in your life, watch this show. This season is especially great because he is starting to lose it. ...See how that's funny?

Matt being a man and fetching us some Papa Johns pizza.

Peace out, Monday.