If someone told me that I had to walk around smelling like a specific food for the rest of my days, I would choose to smell like gingerbread cookies. Oranges would also be on my top five list of I Have to Smell Like This Food possibilities. Green bean casserole.
Honesty: Show me a person who thinks I’m mean and I’ll show you a person who has no idea. (And by saying they Have No Idea, I’m not saying, “I’m MORE MEAN THAN YOU THINK! I’M JUST GETTING STARTED BEING MEAN!” By saying you Have No Idea, I’m actually saying, “I’m not mean. Really. Despite what you think you think.”)
Last week I edited a chapter about delusions. While reading it, I was able to visualize actual people (and sometimes those people were me!) who fit some of the descriptions in the book. A few days ago I edited a chapter about sleep disorders, and I was quickly able to diagnose myself with maladies I probably don’t actually have. Yesterday I edited Sexual Disorders. Green bean casserole.)
I have potatoes and carrots and celery and garbanzo beans and diced tomatoes and veggie broth simmering in the Crock pot right now with curry and coriander and garlic. Add that to the list of foods I might want to exude.
Last night I had a dream during which a man in a red velvet hat approached me in a castle and asked me to spell loo-be-doo. I smiled confidently and said, “l-e-a-u-x-b-e-d-e-u-x.” He frowned and said, “No. It’s just l-o-o-b-e-d-o-o.” I think this means that I try to add unnecessary details. I should stop cleaning my house and just get that goofy realtor over here.
Baked apples with cinnamon and brown sugar. Add that to the list.