So, I'm awake at 1 AM again, and well jet lag probably isn't the
excuse. I needed a burrito, with lots of cheese and salsa. My mommy and
daddy had all of the necessary ingredients in the refrigerator so I
didn't have to wait for the store to open, prepare Thomas for an
outing, and drag him to the bus stop so we could procure overpriced
crappy tortillas that would mold in a heartbeat or ketchup flavored
salsa. Joy! I had a thought as I was microwaving my burritos, peeking
my pregnant head around the corner to catch the stop button before the
deafening beeps that could wake the wholeun -pregnant, refrigerator
stocking, sleeping occupants of this house. I wanted to add salsa, and
it was cold. Then I thought "I like cold salsa on a hot burrito. No, Chad likes cold salsa on his Mexican food, and I like it
heated with the cheese. It's always been a question when we
cook together, when to add the salsa? We cook separate burritos because
of this, duh." The point? Somewhere in my mind I mixed up his
preferences for my own. I don't know if this signals how much I miss
him while we are working on opposite coasts this summer, or an extreme
co-dependence problem. I would like to think it's the first reason,
since I'm carrying his second child. It's not easy being apart, but I
sure am enjoying my burrito right now, cold salsa and all.
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