indulgence is the word of the day.

I always write after I eat at McDonald's. I think its because facets of indulgence go together. Physical indulgence... mental indulgence... emotional indulgence... and the cycle continues. Really, though, I can't blame myself for succumbing to McDonald's. For that I blame the man who invented the Sausage McGriddle.

GRAND PLANS FOR TUESDAY, OCTOBER 29

• Mail out Netflix
• Indulge in self-pity about missing the Office and Weeds for the past 2 weeks
• Coach
• Do laundry
• Grade Reading Objectives
• Make Grade Reports
• Try to avoid prepping for my Prospectus Defense
• Continue avoidance by eating 2 dollar tacos at The Library
• Indulge in a teary-eyed, hand-wringing, A-hugging nervous breakdown because I haven't prepared for my Prospectus Defense
• Eat lemon sorbet and gummy bears as a metaphorical last meal
• Decide the world really isn't that bad and prep for my Prospectus Defense*
  

*Acknowledgment of self-destructive life patterns is clearly not enough to break them.

OTHER NEWS ON THE BUELSY FRONT

1. Generally speaking, whenever I leave school mid-morning on Tuesday or Thursday (with the purpose of picking up A and jointly consuming food that may or may not be McDonald's), I'm forced to park in the far away lot when I return. Without fail, by the time I haul my lazy ass back over to Lang Hall, there's an empty spot ten feet away from the front door, emblazoned with the message: Suck on that, biatch.
2. For the last couple of weeks, I have literally been too stressed out to sleep. I lay down and close my eyes, but even though my mind and body are exhausted, I can't unclench my muscles, I can't stop thinking about snippets of speeches and theses, or about how much my eyeballs hurt (yes, my eyeballs). Enter Ambien. We'll see how it goes.
   
3. The Fox News motto "We report. You decide." causes me to literally laugh out loud.
4. This is very, very disturbing. Thanks to JAD for pointing me to a reason to throw up the McDonald's I just ate that does not include eating disorders.
   
5. I think it would be interesting to do a demographic study of spectrum of individuals opposed to Starbucks. Maybe I will eventually do this study if my life as a researcher is not nipped in the proverbial bud tomorrow.
6. Boo to Mimi Smartypants for publishing pieces of wonderful so few and far between.
   
7. Somebody near and dear to me lost somebody near and dear to her over the weekend. My hugs go out to her. The situation has made me realize that the Midwest is a facade. Because tragic things don't happen as frequently as they do in Los Angeles, it's easy to believe that they don't exist. But they do, and this makes me miss everybody I love who is far away.
   

--buelsy (48 days from home)

weekend edition #2

Originally composed by A and buelsy at Toad's on Main Street, in downtown Christmas Island:

REASONS WHY MCDONALD'S SHOULD SERVE BREAKFAST 24-7

1. Because it's amazing.
2. Equal breakfast opportunity for night owls who wake up after 10:30 a.m., but zonk out again before 4:00 a.m. (Nearly every college student in America)
3. Decrease in road rage in evening rush hour commuters who consume Micky D's. Sugar makes you high.
   
4. The enticement of breakfast at night will actually lure drunkies away from bars before they drink beyond the point of no return.

REASONS WHY MCDONALD'S SHOULD POTENTIALLY NOT BREAKFAST 24-7

1. America becomes even more obese and eventually explodes.
2. Mom and pop diners lose customers. Who wants to eat a slightly-more-expensive breakfast with mom and pop when you can have a Sausage McGriddle?
3. The increase of supply will decrease the demand for McDonald's breakfast. It just tastes better when it's hard to get.
   
4. Quality decreases by an even greater degree of mass production of breakfast sandwiches.

SLIGHTLY NON-SEQUITOR, BUT VERY CLEAR CONCLUSION TO THE DEBATE: Sausage McGriddles. They make us happy.

In other news, the weekend went by fast. I've only crossed off about two of the thirty things on my agenda (thank you, Google Calendar). My propsectus has to be out by tomorrow. Messy Manor is even messier than usual. A is glum. I guess I'm a little glum too. Sundays are just like that.

--buelsy (but look at the trees!)