So yesterday after work, i had a list of things to do to keep myself busy until it was late enough for me to go to bed. I completed everything on my list (for once), granted it only had 3 things on it, but whatever. As planned, right after I ran, but before I showered...I had to defrost some chicken. WELL, turns out right as i was doing that, a ted just so happen to have asked if i could make him dinner too. then it turned into this big ordeal with making chicken and rice and blah blah, when i would have been content with a chicken breast and wheat thins. i ate way more than i wanted to and dirtied all the dishes just so that it would appear to this random guy, that i can actually cook. after i cleaned everything up, i was kind of weirded out. since when do i cook? i'm the master of grilled cheeses and cereal but to make a meal? gross. take me back to the days when soup-at-hands were my lunch of choice. i'm about to hit 23 and it kind of makes me sad that i'm growing up in the food isle.
Right before i moved to chicago, my dad said that he'd never believe it that i'd move here if someone would have asked him 4 years ago. he said he expects me to still wear baggy basketball shorts and sling my hair back everyday. cmon dad! don't make me feel even older now that i graduated to heels, skinny jeans and a curling iron! of course when i get home from work, i throw on some sweats (granted they aren't lourdes knights bball sweats anymore) and sweatshirt! just because i'm almost 23, doesn't mean i'm not i'm still the same old laid back sconnie at heart!!
ugh, i turn 23 in 6 weeks. kill me now.
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