Now I want peanut butter cookies. Only I think the SO would kill me, since he's already harping on about how my banana bread messed with his weight loss. Tough, buddy, it was an observance. Plus, I am not the keeper of how much banana bread you eat.

I just did my seed starts! It was not onerous! It was a fun task! But it needed to be done. And now it is, yay.

Okay, I think next up is budget.

But you're still sending me a box of cookies, right?

Not the ones I just made! They're quick and dirty gluten-free peanut butter cookies and I don't even share them with Tim!

If I make onerous snickerdoodles, though, they're totally yours.

Onerodoodles? Would that be anything like the oopsidoodles I made that one time when I ran out of everything? I used pumpkin pie spice instead of the cinnamon and brown sugar instead of white and they were oh so good.

Now I want peanut butter cookies.

They're the ridiculously easy ones -- 1 c. PB, 1 c. sugar, 1 egg, 1 tsp baking powder; mix; roll in balls, roll balls in sugar, moosh balls with fork tines in classic criss-cross pattern, bake.

Only I think the SO would kill me, since he's already harping on about how my banana bread messed with his weight loss. Tough, buddy, it was an observance. Plus, I am not the keeper of how much banana bread you eat.

Tim, who is 44 years old and looks like this (totally safe for work, unless you work for Lex Luthor [I am such a DORK]): [link] told me the other day "I think my metabolism is slowing down, because...my clothes are fitting a little tight."

I told him that he got probably a decade longer than most people do, and if maybe he didn't eat 3 cartons of ice cream (NOT pints) a week, he wouldn't have that problem, AND that that was the only suggestion/comment I was going to make about his weight, since he is kind enough to not comment on mine.

But seriously. The man has a 28-inch waist (maybe 30 inches, actually, but still) and he's 44 years old. Age gracefully, yo.

If I make onerous snickerdoodles, though, they're totally yours.

Now that's a band name: Onerous Snickerdoodles.

if maybe he didn't eat 3 cartons of ice cream (NOT pints) a week

That...is a lot of ice cream. What's his favorite flavor?

That...is a lot of ice cream.

You ain't kidding. It's really impressive to behold. (Also, he has 2 kinds of cookies in the house, which we have to buy every week. And then there's the apple crisp. He should be the Half-Ton Man, and yet.)

What's his favorite flavor?

You know, I honestly don't know. The one he buys most often is Tin Roof, but I think that's his favorite flavor in the cheapest brand (the man loves a bargain and will not pay $6 for a carton of ice cream).

Well, I can't claim to have completed my onerous task yet, as my fic is still unfinished, but I have knocked out 1100 words on it so far today. I think I can put that in the win column. If I manage to write more tonight, great; if not, I'm not beating myself up. It will have to be finished by tomorrow, though, so I can send it to beta.

Alternatively, um, DCistas?

I have a futon that you're welcome to crash on. Although if you're here tomorrow, I might try to shanghai you into helping me buy my new TV ;) I'll e my phone number. I can come pick you up from the airport if need be.

Today is one long segue of onerosity. And now I have a status report to write. Which...don't wanna. But needs must, and shit.