on the wagon

So I write the checks for work every week. I noticed a couple of months ago that whenever I wrote a check to Alfred for reimbursement, I made them out to "Alfred," his middle name, instead of "Max," his legal first name, and the name that is on our account. You'd think I'd know how to write a check to my own husband, but apparently not. Luckily our bank takes it anyway, so I always just write them to Alfred so they don't get mixed up and go to his dad somehow.

I had dinner last night with some girls from my book club. One of the girls brought her 6 month old son, who was so cute - he was smiling at everyone, and kept staring and smiling at the girl next to him and trying to hold her hand. I had a giant, delicious burger with bleu cheese, and loved every bite. However, I am currently back on the wagon (the eating healthy and exercising wagon - I fell off for a week or so, skipping workouts, eating lots of delicious bad things like cheesecake, cookies, m&ms, ice cream) which is a good thing, because it meant I was able to resist a) the chips with bleu cheese b) the fries (got fruit instead), c) the Oreo milkshake, and d) the bakery a few doors away that a couple of girls went to after dinner, which features giant Oreo cupcakes, for one thing. Mmm, oreo based desserts. I felt very virtuous. Dang, I've been looking for food pictures for like 10 minutes and now I'm hungry. I want a cupcake. Good thing I'm back on the wagon.

I had left the office at about 5:30 for my dinner, Alfred was planning on going to his parents' house for dinner. When I called him at 7:40 as I was leaving the restaurant, they were still at the damn office! Crazy people! So I got to sit and watch TV while he ate with his family.

Also: rich people have roaches, too. There was one in the kitchen last night. I poisoned it with some Clorox cleaning spray, and Alfred squashed it. Little bastard.