However, when I arrived at 6:40, the doors were closed up tightly, and no staff was around.

Damn Jimmy John�s hippies.

On Wednesday the craving returned, and I scuttled to Jimmy John�s well before 6:30 to ensure I didn�t get locked out again. The fresh-baked bread was mine-all-mine, and I was arriving at 6:15 to grab the goods.

Again, I shake my fist at you Jimmy John�s. 6:15 is not 7:00, and you should certainly be open then!

So yesterday, as soon as I finished my entry here, I ran to Jimmy John�s certain that they would be open at 5:35. And indeed they were.

I got my bread and asked the hippie manager how late they were open until. Apparently the card I have that advertised when they were open is old, and they�re only open until 6 p.m. these days. And, yes, despite the time change, they still hand out the cards advertising that they�re open until 7 p.m.

I got my bread; but after three days of build-up, the marinara dippage wasn�t as good as I had hoped.

Damn you Jimmy John�s!

So, yeah. That�s the story of the Sandwich Shop Saga. There really wasn�t much to tell.

[sigh]

Today�s been a wonderful day. I feel like I�ve actually gotten stuff done. At work I�ve been zipping through these files. I�ve done all of my marketing for the next three months through my Mary Kay website. I�ve got one fundraiser offer officially out the door. I�ve gotten everything I can do right now done on my to-do list (beneficiary change done, brother�s website updated, parking garage bill paid, etc., etc.). I�ve been check-check-checking off stuff all day long, and it�s quite a good feeling.

Tonight is pretty low-key, as I�m not feeling the party grove lately.

Happy�s coming over, and we�re going to attempt to drain my fishtank while not ruining my hardwood floors, give ourselves pedicures, and break in my new grill. For the occasion I have two huge portabella mushroom caps stuffed with garlic, a zucchini, some red onion, seasoned tofu slices, and pineapple chunks.

Oh yes. And twelve cans of Miller Lite too. Just because we�re not going out doesn�t mean that we aren�t going to get silly drunk and giggle like crazy.

Okay. 40 more minutes left at work. I�m feeling restless. I can stand up and stretch, but I know that�s not enough movement to make my body happy.

Hmm... Something weird lately. It seems that my clothes aren�t fitting quite right. I don�t know why my weight fluctuates so much, but my skirt is constantly turning around and around, and I don�t like it. Also, today�s shirt has got to go. I look frumpy, and I don�t like it one bit.

It�s funny to think of how differently I dress these days compared with a couple years ago. Today�s stuff is very classic with solid colors and a bit of feminine flair (e.g., a pearl necklace peeking through the shirt�s collar, a ruffle on the skirt�s edge). Back in the IBM days when I was confined to the same dress code, it was khakis and a blah-fitting shirt every single day.

Today there�s no way I�d buy a button-up shirt that didn�t have bullets taken in at the waist. I wouldn�t wear boring slip-on shoes. I wouldn�t dream of wearing a regular ol� t-shirt. Pleated pants? I think not.

I think I�m a clothing snob.

But I�ve found that if I�m dressed well, I feel good. The days I�m in the foulest moods, I generally look the nicest to try to swing those blues.

Today�s been a great day, but I was a bit blah when I saw my reflection in a storefront during lunch.

Frumpy I am not.

It looks like I�ll have to keep my eyes open for some new shirts that fit better. Yeah, like I�ve ever minded shopping for pretty things...

This weekend�s plans: Tonight is grilling and chilling with Happy and Miller Lite. Tomorrow afternoon is Six Flags with Benito. Tomorrow night is a college football game with him too. Sunday will be my relaxing day as Benito messes with his fantasy football stuff and tries to maintain his 3-0 record.
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