There's a big Asian grocery a couple of miles from me, I bet they have good stuff.

TJ's miso ginger broth is very tasty.

I'm having blood drawn in the morning for the cholesterol test I keep putting off, so I have to fast, probably after midnight, which is soon in this time zone. I should make a giant sandwich!

...no, really, I am a little hungry, but that's probably because I know I have to fast.

And if I'm REALLY on top of my game tomorrow, I'll actually make it to the Social Security office to get my name legally changed before our 1-year anniversary! (Which is Sunday. I'm a slacker.)

Nuts. It's a 12-hour fast, which means no pre-midnight sandwich. Bah.

So of course now I'm REALLY hungry.

Y'all know my well documented anger issues. Only ever met the one person angrier than me, in point of fact I am close to rage blackout right now over some idiotic blog I read off fb. And it's, it's, we'll, it's not fucking great, I'll tell you what. But it is how it is, so the universe is just going to have to deal with it.

Bummer about the fast, Tep, but at least it's in the morning so you won't have to wait all day?

Go to sleep, Tep. Being unconscious is the best way to fast, I always say.

Which reminds me, my cube-neighbor's husband plays in a band and I halfway promised to go to his next gig. Turns out it's on Yom Kippur. Well, that evening, so it's not out of the question, but still kinda weird.

Bummer about the fast, Tep, but at least it's in the morning so you won't have to wait all day?

Yeah, I think I'll manage to not waste away. t hand to forehead

The lab doesn't do appointments; you just show up, give them your paperwork, and I assume a vampire comes out to bite you. Or maybe a leech in a white doctor's coat oozes out from its office. Anyway, no appointment means I'm going as early as possible tomorrow so I can get it done and then shovel some breakfast in my face. (I can have black coffee -- ick -- so at least my driving won't be impaired from lack of caffeine.)

And I scrambled around for the documents I need for the Social Security office, and it turns out I can mail all that shit in to get my name changed. So fuck it, man, that's what I'm doing. I'm not going downtown if I don't have to.

We don't have grandiose anniversary plans; just dinner out somewhere and cupcakes to commemorate our wedding cupcakes (we don't have year-old wedding cupcakes frozen in the back of the freezer, mostly because there is no way that cake -- even in frozen form -- would survive for a year in our house; one or both of us would have devoured it in a sugar frenzy long ago). We were talking about where to have dinner, and Tim, my vegetarian husband, suggested a fancy schmancy steakhouse I've often said I'd like to eat at, assuming there's a pasta dish or something on the menu for him. So we looked at the menu online.

Jesus, NOPE. There is an $82 steak on the menu. I feel like an unsophisticated hick by reacting with such a "Whaaaaaa???" face, but no cow part can be worth that much. (My favorite part is how you pay $82 for this steak, but if you want bernaise sauce, it's $4 extra. REALLY? Maybe if you're charging $82 for a piece of cow, you throw in the sauce for the hell of it.)

I am way too cheap to spend that much on dinner. Maybe -- MAYBE -- for a milestone anniversary. But not for Year 1: The Survivening. There are many other tasty places to eat that don't induce a reaction shot straight out of a Jim Carrey movie.

So Trevor? Not eating, for a few days now. I am sad, but I am also wondering if it's okay if I name the next toad Trevor too. I mean, I guess there's still time for him to make a miraculous recovery, but it's looking less and less likely.

Do toads hibernate? Maybe Trevor is in a seasonal slowdown.

Or. conversely, maybe he is reacting badly to the excess heat.

I have a reception today and one of my peeps who was set on attending has backed out. Anything on your plate, burrell for 10-2?