Projecting My Ridiculous Insecurities

I returned home last night after almost two weeks on the East Coast at my parents house. It was a week of drinking wine, napping, making fun of each other and board games. All around a good holiday and great family time.

When I got home I came home to a pissed off cat (she does not like it when I leave) and an empty fridge. To be honest, it wasn't empty. What it did contain was rotting left overs and sour milk. So I ventured out to a Deli around the corner from me to get some take out. Whenever I order take out or delivery I usually order enough for two meals. It's my own warped form of multi-tasking. I reason with myself that if it's delivery and I'm paying for the delivery I'm actually saving money. I'm not sure how I'm justifying it when it's take out. Anyway, I order a bit of food. The last time I was there when I told the guy that it was To Go, his comment was "I assumed you weren't eating it all yourself." Except that I was.

Tonight when he handed me my order he said something about getting a workout on my way home. I assumed he was referring to the size (and the content) of my order. I'm pretty sure I blushed and was about to make some reference to "we" (we being my imaginary dinner partner so he wouldn't think I was eating all that food by myself). Then I realized he was actually referring the weight of my order, as in, the bag was heavy. (Not me)

I need to relax.

And enjoy my mozzarella sticks, my brownie, my chili mac. yum.