Discounted snacks v. discounted dating

It probably speaks volumes about my romantic future that today I received email coupons from both OkCupid and Grubhub, and deleted the OKC one without reading it, but hopped on that Grubhub shit like white on rice. (Especially since I used it to order Indian food, so literal white rice is forthcoming. As is my true soulmate, paneer.)

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If he also made pie, I’ll marry him.

I’m not 100% sure about this guy I’m about to message on OkCupid. If I’m being totally honest, he might be too smart and too chill for my silly, hyper ass.

But in his profile photo, he’s pouring shredded cheese into small, hollowed-out pumpkins to make individual fondue pots, and… well, people, my needs are simple.

So much for righteous indignation

I’ve been so run down that I was a little worried about my blood donation appointment today. I know I CAN donate, but I was concerned about feeling even more depleted. So I Googled it, and dammit, Australian Red Cross — I can’t decide if I’m comforted or insulted by your assurance.

“Oh, because I’m a woman overrun with hormones, I must want snacks and a couch? How dare you stereotype me?!”
“You DO want snacks and a couch.”
“…Fuck.”

Not that it’s a competition, but…

Earlier today, my married-couple friends welcomed their beautiful new baby into the world.

However, today, I:
1. Looked in my purse for something else and found a brownie I forgot I’d bought yesterday.
2. Worked Cyrano de Bergerac into a blog post about OkCupid and oral sex.
3. Did such a good job masturbating while thinking about Scott Foley that now I’m gloriously exhausted and am just going to stay in bed.

So, I mean, really, who had a bigger day?