Mixed grill

No, I didn't grill the apple. and no, it wasn't rotten. It was actually pretty good -- it just browned quickly because it was hot that day.

The post title, if you hadn't got it yet, just means that I have a few small things to talk about that have nothing to do with each other but are going to be served together anyway. A chacun son goût, as they say.

Well, as some say.

The French, mostly.

----------

First, then, I wanted to let you know that I'm not going to complain about working the late shift again because I'm not. I'm working a late meeting. Working late at all puts me in a bit of a mood no matter why I'm doing it, though. Probably goes back to working at some subway shop.  Late shifts there were brutal, and they generally only scheduled one person to close (I'd imagine that newer OH&S regs mean that they can't do that anymore. What a pity). Close the storefront, put all the food away, clean up everything... all by yourself. When you left depended on how much of a mess there was; not just from your shift, but from the whole day. It was just after university and I'd moved back in with my parents temporarily. After the first night that I didn't get in until two in the morning, they refused to let me drive myself home. Yep, I had to phone mommy and daddy for a ride, no matter how late it was, so that I wasn't walking down the alley to the parking lot alone. Thanks, both of you. I actually really appreciated that.

----------

Next, and probably should have been first, I have over a foot less hair than I did when I got up this morning. Yep, finally had it with the whole having to tie it back even at night thing. Erm, because otherwise it was so long that it would get caught under my armpits and wake me up when I rolled over. Seriously. So now I have a hairdo for the first time in well over two years. Possibly over three years. I can't really remember.

Speaking of remember, I'll have to remember how to use hair products again. And do something with my hair besides a ponytail (because I can't anymore. Yes, I really did get that much cut off). I always make myself a deal when I get my hair cut: it has to be down for at least two days. After two days it's usually driving me so bonkers that I have to pin it back, but two days starts... now.

Ok, maybe more like tomorrow morning.

----------

Last, I've (finally) finished up the 2% milk I had in the fridge. Good. I know that some of you are wondering why the finally and the good, but let me tell you, when you're not used to 2% it feels pretty much like you're drinking butterfat. I used to drink 2% as a kid, but then at some point -- I can't remember why now -- the doctor put me on skim instead.

And as soon as I said skim a lot of you went ewwww. I likely did at first too, but once you drink it for a while you find it way more refreshing and far less... coating, I guess. I genuinely like skim milk now. Dad usually buys 1% and obviously I'll drink that, but for myself it's skim all the way.

Until your neighbourhood grocery store decides to switch allegiances and suffers some unexpected supply shortages as a result. What do you do? Well, if you're me and you need milk for the meal you're making that night, you suck it up and buy the 2% that's about the only thing staring up at you from the milk aisle (I'm not counting the homo. And for those of you not Canadian, that's just short for homogenised whole milk. Doesn't stop the Americans from laughing at pictures of Canadian dairy sections, however. And don't get me started on Regina...).

The 2% is gone now.

Good.