Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Maybe It Was The Espresso

The other day I had an urge to dye my hair jet black, get my eyebrow and nose pierced, lose 75 pounds and wear really funky glasses so that I could get a job at Kava House serving up espressos while smoking long skinny cigarettes on my break. I could take yoga classes and read up on vegetarianism.

Maybe I have a funky inner coffee house girl inside me just waiting to be recognized.

Instead, I drank my African Dark Fair Trade froo froo coffee and ate a big fat cinnamon roll and read my John Grisham Book.


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