And so it goes.

As I mentioned yesterday, I am on a diet.  It is working very well, and I plan on sticking to it.

This diet, however, consists of replacing two meals a day with a smoothie consisting of spinach, fruit, and oatmeal.  When mixed properly, it really is next to impossible to taste the spinach.  Generally, I just feel like I’m drinking a strawberry/banana smoothie with somewhat of an odd texture. 

But, it looks like this.

And that looks like guacamole.  And guacamole looks like goose poop.

If you need to, feel free to go back and reference one of my first blog entries ( here ) and you’ll see why I have issues with foods that are green and creamy. 

This being said, I have had to force myself to somewhat overcome my fear of someone sneakily swapping out my actual food with avian excrement.

It hasn’t been easy.  It’s a process.  I can drink my smoothies without closing my eyes now, and I have even managed to eat a couple of fresh avocados. 

Progress, people.  I’m actually making progress.

So, this morning I wake up late (as usual), take a shower (unfortunately, that part isn’t as usual as it should be), and get ready for work.  Every day, the last thing that I do before I leave the house is make myself a smoothie, pour it in a foam cup, and then rinse out the blender.

It takes me about ten minutes to get to work, and if I time it just right, I’m generally finishing my smoothie right when I pull into the parking lot at the office.  This morning was no different. 

Until I realized that I hadn't turned off the sink before I left.

Sigh.

I’m not sure I have ever driven so fast in my life.  I just knew that as soon as I got back into the house, the whole kitchen would be flooded and that Joey (my roommate) would never speak to me again. 

And I totally would have deserved it.

The gods of renters insurance must have been watching out for me today, because when I frantically rushed in the front door, I wasn’t met with the tidal wave of built up water I had been expecting.  Actually, I was only greeted by the angry looks of Lionel and Jack (Joey’s dog and cat), unhappy I had woken them from their deep slumber on the couch. 

The water, of course, was still blasting at almost full stream. But because Jesus loves me a lot today, the sink was only about a third of the way full, and the water was just circling down the drain, clueless to the potential it had to ruin the kitchen floor. And my life.

Maybe I should look into moving into one of those assisted living homes when I get to Florida.