Priorities
I can smell some steak cooking, and it smells awesome. The smell is wafting into my office from the nearby Longhorn steakhouse. It's making me ask myself the age-old question, "which fast food establishment will get my hard-earned money today?"

It's feeling like it might be a Subway day.

(abrupt change of subject to follow)

So, we're watching the Sox/Yanks game last night, and just feeling horribly for the Sox fans who are just going to be let down in the end. They cut to a shot of some of Boston's finest fans, yelling their little hearts out, and I say that I wish I could imitate a Boston accent, so I could come up with insults to yell at the TV. My husband, in a pretty damn good Boston accent, goes, "Hey Jetaahhh. I heahhh youahhhh sistah's dick is biggah than youahhhs!"

And there it is. The man I married, everyone.