Autopilot

I need to write a blog post for work, and possibly also do some work an intern already did but neglected to e-mail, so naturally, I am writing a post of dubious interest for you instead.

Those who interact with me daily may already suspect that my soda compulsion has gotten out of control. In general, part of how I trick myself into thinking that it is not is that I (usually) only drink one soda a day. That soda is, it should be said, enormous, and is (usually) acquired from a local convenience store that is between my house and my work, an easy walking distance from either.

One sign that my soda drinking may be a pretty severe habit is likely the friendly relationship I have with the staff of said store, who are a pretty friendly bunch, but who recognize me and greet me cheerily, as they see me on average at least once a day.

But another presented itself today, when I left work at lunchtime to go to a local restaurant (full punch card day! woohoo!) and instead, without thinking, wandered into the convenience store. It was not until I was actually standing in front of the soda fountain that I realized I didn't want a soda, had in fact already consumed my enormous soda for the day, and that I already had a big plan to go use my full punch card at the joint down the street.

Whoops.

Time to cut back, methinks.

(Any of you readers remember when I was "Oat Bran Muffin Girl" to the guy at the Dunkin' Donuts in Madison, NJ? There are places not to aspire to be a regular at.)