I had rehearsal tonight for the Gay Men's Chorus of Los Angeles - as well as auditions for solos (which went well, by the way - but I still don't know if I got one or not). Regardless, I have to leave right from work without much time to grab food beforehand - so I usually just eat a granola bar in the car on the way. Not a big deal, right?

WRONG.

As I was climbing BACK into my car tonight after rehearsal was over - I noticed something on my seat, so I went to brush it off - and it didn't move. It was slightly smeared on the seat - and then it hit me - a chocolate chip must have fallen from the granola bar (because you know my fat ass isn't getting the good granola bars, I'm getting the fatty ones that have chocolate and peanut butter) and underneath me as I was driving. 

WHICH COULD ONLY MEAN ONE THING.

If it had gotten on my seat - there's an OUTSTANDINGLY GOOD chance that it had also gotten on my pants. And I just spent over three hours in a room with 200 other guys. And I probably have chocolate all over my backside. 

That's when the little voice inside my head tried to reason with me. "Oh, come on Steve - it clearly didn't get on your pants. Someone would have said something - even just a snarky comment - something." - and then the voice found logic and said  "Unless they were making the snarky comments BEHIND YOUR BACK - WHERE THE CHOCOLATE IS!!!"

So I rushed home - hoping against hope that somehow the chocolate had only melted/smeared on my car seat and had magically left my pants unstained.

Boy, was I wrong.

Anyway, thanks Granola Bars for keeping me good and single (and fat). 

Sincerely,
Steve

Unfortunately, there aren't any medications that I can take to make me less socially awkward. 

I went to my new doctor today - and he is great - but I'm a moron. Why didn't I just ask the nurse to measure how tall I was? Why did I need to tell her the entire story about how I think I'm 5'11" but my boss says I am only 5'10" and can't we just compromise on 5'10.5" --- there was no need. None whatsoever. 

And, as predicted, the doctor told me I need to start exercising - which I knew he would - but it's just always so painful to hear, you know? 

So I'm counting tonight as my last night of actual freedom before I start really (seriously) watching what I eat and working out. And with that in mind - I'm heading to Burger King. TRIPLE WHOPPER!!! YEAH!!!  (I'm not really heading to Burger King now, but I most likely will have a burger tonight.) 

I am about to go to dinner with friends - I'm excited and then for the movie, I'm thinking I will watch something on Netflix. 

Should I go to bed early? Yes. Should I read some of the books I purchased this weekend? Obviously. 

But will I end up laying on the couch watching a period drama and crocheting? Most likely.