2 Hours

Yesterday was snowy. I stopped at Starbucks for my Thursday morning Venti, Non-Fat, extra caramel, caramel macciato, which forced me to drive through my neighborhood. And I almost died. Not really. But the sound of spinny tires when you're on a hill isn't particularly comforting. I just need my friggin coffee.

I'm tired. My roommate Jen doesn't typically get home until around 10 (she trains like a fiend; I tell people she's our built-in security system), and I usually want to catch up with her, so we were up 'til 11. She teaches at the old problematic, disastrous Cesar Chavez Academy (they've changed the name but I don't know the new one), so we both lament the situations of our little friends- my young lifers and her kids. Man. Kids sure go through monstrous problems. Sometimes I wonder why I do this Young Life thing and then I remember- kids have monstrous problems. Ha.

Thursday's are my lame days. I usually spend a few hours (yes, hours) going through my old emails which, currently number,-let me check-number nearly 6,000. Holy mother.

I'm now drinking the last few inches of my extraordinarily expensive coffee. The caramel has this strange pattern of sinking to the bottom of the 16 oz. paper cup, so I'm not drinking coffee anymore- I'm drinking sugar.

My plans for the weekend: sleep. Sleep in on Saturday. Eat breakfast. Go back to bed. Surf the internet. Take nap on Saturday. Snag some dirty clothes. Walk to Ross and buy some stuff I don't need. Watch a movie. Drink. Go back to bed.

I'm very excited for Saturday. Seriously.

Across the Universe. Good movie. Weird though.

I've been trying to save a bit of money lately. This means that my weekly latte consumption has dropped from 7 to 4. I'm working on it. I'm convincing myself, very slowly mind you, that I have enough clothes. I think I can go two weeks without wearing something dressy twice. That should be enough, right? I think that will be the new challenge.

Problem: I haven't shaved my legs in about 3 weeks. I'm starting to look like a bear. This is why I wear pants everyday.

I have decided that if a man is not in my future that I will invest in a pair of spectacular square, black-rimmed glasses, a closet full of Banana Republic, a giant flat-screen TV, a Land Rover and I will adopt a cat, all of which shall accompany my studio apartment. I need to start saving now.

Speaking of Banana Republic, during their clearance a week ago I purchased a cashmere sweater for $28. It was down from $150. I almost couldn't believe it. I probably own softer sweaters, but it's my personal belief that all girls need a cashmere sweater in their closet. And now I have one. So there, corporate America. You've sucked me in and I've fallen prey to your evil devices.

I think I need a gym membership. I don't weigh myself. I check and see how I feel in my clothes. And that is how I judge my present weight. Dark colors make you look skinnier and skinny jeans have this way of sucking everything in... I'd highly suggest them. So black, skinny jeans--- Maren looks 10 pounds lighter. Wooot.

In speaking with Jen last night, I've decided to design cellulite Barbie. She will be accompanied by stretch mark Midge. I will move to California and become rich as a Mattel designer. Talk about a horrific job. Gosh.

Dream job right now (and probably forever...)- work for The Onion. Yes. That would be quite fabulous.

Oh, and the other thing about my office- I STILL CANNOT FIND MATCHING OFFICE CHAIRS. It's driving me insane. I had a lead on these fabulous, perfect, amazing, mind-blowing chairs... and the lady sold them even though we'd been talking.

I might meander over to Platte Furniture (hopefully with a gun by then) and see what they've got.

It's the weekend in about 2 hours. Praise the Lord.