Last night I had a dream about cookies. Specifically generic brand "duplex" sandwich cookies, not Oreos. You know, the ones that are vanilla on one side and chocolate on the other and oh so tasty?. So, in my dream I was trying to ride a bike from New Orleans to Orlando with members of my family being pulled in a trailer behind me. I got about halfway to Orlando when I realized I was starving and pulled over onto the shoulder of the bike interstate. Realizing that I hadn't packed a lunch for myself, I asked my family what they had and someone handed me a baggie of duplex sandwich cookies. I ate the hell out of those cookies and when I woke up I really really wanted to eat the hell out of some in my waking life.
So today at lunch, after managing to perform a miracle and get my power turned back on, I stopped at the grocery store and bought a healthy meal of chicken tenders and a pack of duplex cookies. This was lovely except for one small glitch: did you know that stores only sell duplex cookies in packs that are two pounds in size? Two pounds! That's a lot of freaking dream cookies. In fact, I don't think I even ate two pounds worth of duplex cookies in my dream and you know I burned two pounds worth of calories towing my family from NOLA to Orlando. Somehow I showed restraint and only ate three cookies from the pack. At this rate the remaining duplexes will be soggy and stale long before I finish the pack. I should have saved them and strapped the whole pack to my back for my marathon. Instant cookie dispenser and I wouldn't have needed a single gu for the race. I would surely bet the Kenyans with this plan.
On a note that I'm going to pretend is totally random and unrelated to the fact that I have two pounds of cookies staring at me from my desk, my bras are feeling a bit tight in the cup area, which is normally a sign that I'm chunking up a bit, but this time I don't think it's that. Because I am in denial. I think my boobs are getting bigger because they never re-pressurized from our plane ride home. My boobs are suffering from some kind of ill pressurized jet lag. And so help me, if you try to tell me differently, I will come over there and smack you upside the head with my pack of cookies.