The Universe Speaks and Says...

Sweating away in the gym on my stationary bike, pleased to have the gym nearly to myself. Settling into the last ten minutes, flipping through a GQ. Thought bubble appears...
"This is why I enjoy men's magazines more than women's. No article's on how to lose ten pounds or the five new ways I can please my man. Nope, just articles on music, or sports, lots of male models for ogling and..."
BAM
The seat of my bike drops. Not one notch. All the way down. Jarring - in so many ways.
Crouched over the bike in fear. Tentative though bubble reappears...
"Duly Noted Universe, I'll be picking up that Cosmo."

Team No Pants

Just when my life seems a little dull or mundane, the Universe sends me clowns. And then it sends me pant-less frisbee players. And then I say "Enough is enough! I have had it with these mother fucking clowns and pant-less people on this motherfucking plane!"

Morning Fail

Cell phone alarm buzzing, what a hateful noise. Sleep for fifteen more minutes? Sure. Snooooooze. Emerging from my nest of pillows and PANIC! 8:51. Stupid, evil, hateful phone. Doing my best imitation of a chicken with its head cut off as I put on yesterdays clothing, pause to turn t-shirt around. No time for tea or breakfast just grab it all and run. Sandals are not conducive to hauling across campus, but an excellent way to acquire blisters. 9:10. Only ten minutes late? Sweaty, breathless imaginary high five. 10:30. Coffee break, coffee and milk with my cup of sugar. No time for food, hurry back. 11:00. Empty stomach and coffee? Cue the shakes. Fuck I'm starving, it sounds like I have a bear hidden in my t-shirt (crap, must have stained it with soya sauce last night). No, space cadet indie girl to my left, its hunger, not rampant flatulence, that is making that noise, eyes forward unless you have a sandwich hidden in your décolletage. Unlikely. 11:50. Freedom! Eight dollars for a sandwich? I'd sell those future children if I had to. Can you inject a BLT into your veins? Hunger is abating, coherence can't be far behind.

World's Stalest Muffin

Over-caffeinated and under-slept, I encountered the seemingly innocent muffin nestled in its natural habitat. As I plucked it from it's basket, how was I to know that this particular muffin was in fact unique in its claim as... THE WORLD'S STALEST MUFFIN! Of course this interesting tidbit only revealed itself post-payment, when I deposited the baked good onto my desk. It was the abrupt 'thunk' that alerted my attention and brought about the investigation that revealed its impenetrable shell. Like Napoleon to Russia, my attempts to crack the muffin's inner sanctum were thwarted by lack of supplies. Had I delayed in my coffee drinking, I could have used my hot beverage to melt its crystalized shell. Alas, lack of foresight is a common affliction. Conceding defeat at last, I surrendered to the muffin's superior defenses. Infuriatingly, the muffin let out a resounding bang when I lobbed it to the nether regions of the nearby garbage, alerting my new classmates as to new status "crazy person who throws bricks into garbage cans"