stale cookies for breakfast. not exactly the life i had envisioned for myself when i was fresh out of school. i imagined, of course, like who doesn't, that i would have a personal chef and a marble countertop in the enormous kitchen and a jumbo sized meat thermometer for the pot roasts that my personal chef would make. but alas, i have only a tiny meat thermometer that i use to check the internal temperature of my sad little meatloaves myself, trying to hide the fact that i have used wonderbread or the 53 cent white bread from winco or whatever as the filler. i guess it's a good thing that i don't have a personal chef, because there is no way that two people could ever really be in that kitchen at the same time. it's a micro kitchen, really. i also envisioned huge windows overlooking central park or fifth avenue, but then i realized that i'd actually have to move to new york, just for starters, and i'd probably have to get a degree in something useful or start humping people in powerful positions in order to make that dream happen. so instead, i keep my dignity, sort of, and sit in my little apartment with nice normal sized windows that overlook the dumpster behind my building. there is a tree in our courtyard that touches my window with it's ephemeral leafy fingers, small miracle. it kind of makes it all worth it.