For breakfast I ate potato chips, a trick-or-treat size bag of M&M's, and drank a can of diet Dr. Pepper.

And I only feel a little guilty.

I'm sitting here wishing I could go out for breakfast, but Jer's still asleep. If I went, I'd probably hear about it later. Plus, he's sick. Maybe if I brought him back something eggy?

Or maybe I'll just drink a Bloody Mary and fold laundry.

This whole being a grown-up thing sure is a mixed bag.