I did it. I ate the whole damn chocolate bar.
Granted, I ate 3/4 of it this afternoon, and 1/4 of it three minutes ago, but the fact remains: the entire chocolate bar is now in my stomach.
I haven't bought - let alone eaten - an entire chocolate bar since I was probably 8. That was crazy. But damn, it was good.
I'm levelling with myself by saying, "Self, if you went out to dinner this evening like everybody else who doesn't have to work at 8 am on a Saturday morning, you would probably have gotten chocolate cake for dessert. So it's no biggie. That was your once-a-week treat, you just you gave it to yourself outside of your normal treat window."
Apparently, I have "treat windows" much like my dog does. I didn't know that about myself, but that must be part of this quarter-life-crises discovery shit I keep hearing so much about.
Meanwhile, I haven't had dinner yet so I suppose I'm going to go fix myself a healthy tuna-and-rice combo. Trying to relieve the guilt. Got a problem with that?
On a side note: I just got a phone call from the head of the English department at the high school I work at. They have been trying to change my schedule for the last TWO WEEKS, but couldn't seem to get it together. She finally called today to let me know, and they now have me coming in for ONE HOUR (and only one hour, although it takes me an hour to get there and an hour to get back) on both Wednesday and Thursday. I'm going to raise some holy hell, because this shit is not flying in my universe. Oh hell no, it isn't. In my universe, people who work while going to school don't spend ten hours/week on a train in order to work their twelve scheduled hours/week. My school last year was so understanding of the fact that I actually had more to my life than sitting on trains, but apparently these people think that I'm a train girl, through and through.
So stay tuned. This could get very exciting. Monday is big confrontation day, and heads are going to fly. Seriously. I'm not very into the whole standing-my-ground thing, but when I get riled up I can get pretty ferocious about it.
Because really, did they not think this through? Not only do I work on Saturdays (freaking crazy, I know, but I decided to let it slide because the best classes are all on Saturday), but they also want me coming in for ONE HOUR ONLY two days per week (while I still come in all day Mondays and Tuesdays)?? They all know full well how far away I live.
I'm not happy with this. Not. One. Bit. Because guess what folks? I have research to be doing, and my research has zip, zero, zilch to do with public transportation and all its inner-workings. So that leaves us with the following equation:
Time in day - time spent on trains = Not enough time left over to go to the library