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I have Nachophobia. Or Cheeseophobia. Whatever those are.
Ok, so yesterday the frickin' nacho cheese exploded again. All over ME this time. So I got it all over my fav shirt, fav pants/skimmers, and awesome shoes. I don't rate my fav shoes.
It also then just started flowing and flowing and wouldn't stop, so I had to evacuate the stupid cheese bag from the stupid cheese machine and then clean up myself and the floor and the stupid nacho cheese machine and the counter. The term "cheese in a cup" took a literal meaning as I scooped spilled cheese into a Pepsi cup with a spatula-thing. If you hate cheese, you'll hate it even more when the discusting {misspelled? probably} cheese all gathers in a cup. It makes your stomach queasy. stare
I also {basically} almost got run over by a car yesterday while biking to my friend's house. The woman honked at me and then either shook her finger at me or flipped me the finger. I shook my head and {luckly} was almost to the house so I just turned in.
Me and my friend {whom I'm housesitting for when they go to Mexico} talked and drew and wrote and painted and explored the house. Since I've been over there only one other time. For a party. Quite fun party. And day over there, too.
So yesterday wasn't the greatest of days. Remember the {exploding} nacho machine I mentioned earlier? I burnt my fingers on the cheese {ouch!!} And in front of this guy I really like, I had the stupid cheese remains on me kind of still.
Not one of the best days I've had. Usually they're much nicer. But not today; it's a day-care day, and now that'll be painful. At least there'll be three of us in there.
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