Ok. I was wrong, Hung is Top Chef. I thought it was Casey’s for the taking, but she dropped the ball. Her menu never came together, and it wasn’t even as good as Dale’s. Hung is the man.

Mr. Samback is looking at me with quite the smug look on his face. I remind him that his prognostication didn’t come true either. He doesn’t want to talk about it.

For breakfast:

9 eggwhites (54 g protein), 1/2 cup shredded fat free cheese (18 g protein, 6 g carbs), 1/2 cup raw uncooked oatmeal (54 g carbs, 10 g protein), some splenda, 1 glass water, Rox-Phils highlights, Skip Bayless, Old Spice shower gel, orange toothpaste, socks, 3 minute nap, power trip morning show

Leave me alone, I just want to sit here and work without all of the distractions caused by multiple brain contusions.

Snapshot:

1. Empty styrofoam cup, soon to be un-empty
2. Blinking light on phone (message recieved)
3. Dusty coffeepot (need to brew, need to brew)
4. Slightly dented diet cherry coke can (awaiting further instructions)
5. Actuarial calculator (reverse-polish notation, thankyouverymuch)
6. Knitted cubicle buddies
7. Pre-Jo is working, I am studying (who is winning? neither…both?)
8. A-Ka not here yet
9. Rick is.
10. Did you hear that Michael Jackson died?
11. Overheard: “You’re a nutjob, where are you now!?”
12. The Better Half can’t compete

Enjoy, but don’t thank me until you are pre-approved.