Sometimes I have to memorize a ridiculously long menu in order to work at a place that won't let me have any facial hair. Sometimes after hours and hours of studying, possibly more than I ever studied for any college test, I shall fail to remember that meat sauce has beef, pork, carrots, and celery, or that the tiramasu is 2 layers of lady fingers soaked in expresso, amaretto, and Kahlua. Maybe I won't remember which sauce has roasted and sun dried tomatoes, garlic, anchovies, basil, mint, salt, pepper, extra virgin olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Three of only aproximately 13 items I can screw up out of 75. Sometimes, while attempting to memorize an endless sea of ingredients I am reminded why I never wanted to be a Doctor/avoided anatomy like the plague.
Sometimes my heart gets broken just a little bit. Sometimes this occurres many times throughout the summer. Sometimes heartache makes memorizing difficult, and suddenly I eat 6 slices of toast and 2 cans of apple sauce. Sometimes out of nowhere only 20 people read my blog in a day, and I wonder if I've become a bore. Or redundant. Or unfunny. Sometimes I get pissed at 6 retarded apes playing fooseball down stairs, screaming like frat house goons. Sometimes, whilst in the midst of said pist sentiments, I vow to sell that fooseball table, and every other thing left here by the previous moronic tennants that they assume they can safely leave cluttered about my home. Sometimes my computer spell checker declines to function, and therefore I am left constantly wondering just how many words I am mispelling without a single red squigilly line indicating erroneous character placement.
Sometimes I wonder when things will change. Sometimes I wonder when this will end.
Sometimes the Universe is a bitch.