Why do I want to eat a poutine that is bigger than my head? Someone mentions it for lunch and suddenly I am salivating all over the place, thinking that is all I want. For the rest of my life. Please God, let me have that poutine.

So, my coworker brings it in and I have to say it’s HUGE. Ginormous. I definitely won’t finish it. Much like the rib dinner my sister treated me to yesterday after a rather hellish doctor’s appointment. Remains of half a cow are sitting in my refrigerator. Maybe I’ll put some grass in there so it can graze.

The past few nights, I’ve been trying to get to bed early. I’ve been watching the 2nd season of Carnivale. I finished the 1st season and decided to go for broke and watch it all. Staring at Nick Stahl’s pretty blue eyes didn’t really play into the decision. When you have limited time to watch television, the decision making process is crucial. Har, har.

I get semi-paid today, so I am going to pick up a new set of sheets. Every once in awhile I get the urge to dress up my bed. I think I will go with hospital green, 400 thread count. Not luxury by any means, but definitely a few steps up from the ratty flannel I am currently using.

I’m living my life by tiny increments. I don’t feel the urge to decorate or festoon my living space with personal touches, because that would make for some heavy moving later on. If accepted, I definitely will be attending university next summer and if I have to move to another country, I don’t want to have to carry a lot of crap around. I already have nearly everything from my old house in storage in Northern Ontario. No sense in gathering up a second household’s worth of things just to make a place kind of pretty.

Less stuff, means easier to leave it all behind when you go.

p.s Where is Rowz??
p.p.s I ate that entire thing.