Confession

Nothing scandalous, sorry. But I did eat ice cream for dinner last night. Blackberry and chocolate. Hagen Das. It was worth it, but it happened upon me like the passion on, say, Passions.

(Luis Lopez Fitzgerald! How can you not sense Fancy's interest!? Were you brained by a loose chunk of wood? Just forget about that lame Sheridan character, man. She's perfect for that dullard she married. Sheesh.)

One minute I was just treating myself to a few spoonfuls, the sort of snack I hadn't allowed in a spell. The next minute, I was wearing the carton like a feed bag o' brain freeze.

Again: Worth it, but the bad nutrition burned quickly during this morning's run. Leg cramps are imminent. Still, I'll clap myself on the back. After the ice cream dinner, I treated myself to a late night snack of asparagus.

Slept only three hours, but, alas, did not use the time productively, save for a few frivolous e-mails. I wrote today's blog entry yesterday evening but have yet to type it up. Will do that at lunch. (I know, I know: The anticipation is killing you. You can feel the pressure building in your bladder.)

In the meantime, please get caught up to speed on the five things our Skyylark would like to swim in and eat at the same time.
-cK