flashback: it's pissing out and the bastard is happy to arrive at the office.
not dry but, not soaked so it's ok.
I get in the elevator and a woman says to me in a big voice, "isn't it a great day? isn't it just glorious outside?"
"it sure is something out"
another gets in and she pipes up again, "isn't it a great day? isn't it just glorious outside?"
and we ride up the elevator and when it stops on her floor this big voiced woman whispers, "thank you Jesus" and steps out.
the bastard feels sheepish mocking her earlier words because to a woman of faith, every day is glorious.
flash forward: today was not a good day.
shit is bringing me down professionally and personally
and on top of that, baby's first plane trip is this morning.
the bastard had to pick up some 11th hour stuff for the baby for the trip.
on a whim I got onto twitter to see if the waffle truck is near union square. and fortune finally smiled upon me in her fashion.
I wanted a pick me up and I know like alcohol, food is never to be used as a crutch
but, fuck you.
my day has been wave after wave of negativity which bookended a really pleasant conversation about gundam I had before going once more into the breach.
so i got a waffle and I think it dam near saved my life tonight.
and that's about as much faith as I can muster these days.