Well, it's certainly not getting any better...

Man I am craving a McDonald’s sausage biscuit so freaking bad right now. I mean, really, the mere thought of it is making me salivate something fierce. I had breakfast already (an apple with a Quaker Oatmeal to Go bar and orange juice in case you were wondering) and I’m not actually hungry right now, but I am making myself so with these insane food-porn fantasies. Seriously, I can taste it. It’s glorious. I can feel the flaky biscuit in my greasy paw right now. In the good news department, I’m getting used to the Oatmeal bars. The first one felt to me like I was trying to eat a carpet remnant.

I can’t wait for this cholesterol test to be over, so I can stop it with the cravings already. I don’t think I’m even going to get something bad after the test tomorrow just because I am betting this is all in my head. I’m having a cup of tea now to try and wake up. Coffee has been making me all kinds of goofy towards the end of the day, so I am again swearing off the brew. I think I like tea a lot more now anyhow. I remember when I was a teenager I had two friends who liked tea. So we’d be somewhere and they’d get tea and I’d get some alarmingly huge cup of coffee and I would honestly think they were the odd ones.

In the interest of full disclosure, I went to dinner with these two at a place known for its fish. What does one of them order?

Steak.

With a coffee to drink.

“What are you, a cowboy?” I asked him. “We should ask the waitress if they can serve it to you in a dented tin cup.”

Yeah, we still give him grief for that one.


Anyway, my appointment is tomorrow morning, and so I have to stop eating after 8 pm. If you need to reach me do it before 10, so I’m not too grouchy. Keep me in your prayers/send positive vibes/keep something crossed for me. I want to be making good progress.

I wish I had gotten new bike tires, then I could ride to the doctor, in theory. Of course, I actually like my Nurse Practitioner, so I don’t want to go in there all sweaty, smelling like a wet buffalo or something. Sigh, what’s a guy to do, eh?