Since I was so high maintenance yesterday, I decided to be simple, and got a cappuccino.
Well, that, and I was also getting a crepe, which balanced out my sugar intake for the morning. I would show you a picture of the crepe, but it’s in my belly. It was delicious.
Julie and I have learned never to go to the crepe stand at 11 a.m. There is an ESL class in our building, and Europeans looooooove them some crepes. Apparently that was the time that they all decided to place an order, walk away so that it seemed like there was no line, and then just pop back and grab their crepe while Julie and I stood there being chilly and hungry watching him make crepes that were clearly not ours.
As an added bonus, there was some Nutella on my left cheek for a solid 3-4 hours after I ate my crepe. No one told me. Why don’t people tell me these things? That’s probably why the FedEx guy was looking at me on my way to the bathroom (or the whizz palace as Leslie Knope calls it. Man, Amy Poehler is awesome). I thought I just looked good today. I did work extra hard at kickboxing last night after all. But he was probably just staring at the poop-like splotch on my cheek. Nutella kind of looks like poop.
I’m going to go read The Hunger Games and hope that I don’t get distracted by something silly. Like work.